


stars in your eyes

by Sugar_and_Salt



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Minor Character Death, Multi, Reincarnation, Science Fiction, Spies & Secret Agents, alternative universe, and hitmen, it's less messy than it sounds I swear, online games, vague mentions of mental health issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:18:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15412764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugar_and_Salt/pseuds/Sugar_and_Salt
Summary: Jongdae doesn't know what he might've done in his past life to deserve Tao. But Tao knows.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _"If you were to be reborn, would you want to live in the past or future?"_  
>  _"Future!"_
> 
>  
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> * * *
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>  
> 
> to the mods: thank you for being so patient with my overall insane way of writing! ♥  
> 
> 
> to the prompter: I saw your prompt and it made me so happy someone was specifically asking for tao! I don't have him in my fics a lot but writing him sure was a blast. I hope you're not disappointed in the experimental setting, I wanted to switch it up a bit!  
> 
> 
> to my beta: you were the absolute best! without you, this story would have been hard to even read. thank you so much!  
> 
> 
> as for warnings: there's a surprisingly little amount of violence and super vague mentions of mental health struggles

 

Tao was leaning over the headrest of the couch, staring at the closed kitchen door, his fingers tightly clenching into the fabric. His whole body was on high alert and he could only imagine what Jongdae felt like right now. Through the structured glass, he could only see vague blotches of color suggesting that Jongdae was indeed still there, leaning against the kitchen table, but that was about it. Tao prayed harder than he had during Jongdae’s master’s thesis. That was because back then, he already kind of knew Jongdae was going to ace it with flying colors and only few things were out of their control. This time, though, everything relied on a single person’s subjective opinion.

The muffled sounds of Jongdae’s voice stopped and Tao held his breath. It took Jongdae a whole five seconds before he moved over, opened the door and Tao could see the almost disbelieving look on his face. He looked like a lost kid with the way he held onto the door handle.

“I got the job,” he said, and whatever followed after was drowned in Tao’s cheers, who jumped off the couch, almost stumbled over his own sports bag and tugged Jongdae into a firm hug, almost hurting both of them in the progress.

“You did it! God, I’m so glad-”

His words were mostly lost, mumbled into Jongdae’s shoulder, who steered them away from the door before reciprocating the hug. A job at Sina was incredible, considering the company was one of the biggest names in the field of internet software, boasting one of the most used search engines and their own series of creative programs that were part of a huge imperium, which was still steadily growing. Getting an actual job as a programmer sounded like a fairytale to graduates like Jongdae, and yet Tao had always known he had what it took.

“I’m so relieved,” Jongdae muttered. He got like that when he was overwhelmed. Jongdae was always talkative, but if something really knocked him off his feet, if something was deeply affecting him, then all the words were wiped off the table to make room for astounded silence. In response, Tao squeezed him even harder, before letting go.

“We should celebrate,” he said, palms on Jongdae’s shoulders. “Let’s go and eat somewhere really nice. How about the Vietnamese restaurant down the street? And cake for dessert, from the Greek bakery!”

“We’ll die,” Jongdae laughed restlessly, his eyes shining with distracted excitement, “we’ll just explode and I’ll never even get to attend my first day.”

“Nonsense, all your excitement will burn right through the food,” Tao argued, hands sliding down the other’s upper arms. “Let’s go? It’ll be my treat, obviously.”

Jongdae’s own fingers found their way to Tao’s waist. It felt familiar.

“What an honour, to get treated by the stingy Huang Zitao himself.”

Tao playfully rolled his eyes.

“I always treat you, you know that.”

Jongdae’s airy smile turned into a wide grin.

“I know. And only me. What did I do to deserve you?”

Tao’s grin grew weak for a split second, and a prick of many mixed emotions invited him to get lost in thoughts and maybe hug Jongdae again, but this was not the time.

“You did everything. I’d never be able to pay you back if I tried,” he said flippantly, and Jongdae interrupted him with a short peck on the lips. Just like that, leaning up, simultaneously pulling Tao down, peck on the lips. Jongdae sometimes did that.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t give my best to do it, anyway,” Tao continued, a little more distracted at that point. “So let’s get dressed, you could use a walk. You can barely stand still.”

Jongdae huffed and playfully punched his side.

“Look who’s talking - you’re almost giddier than I am! But fine, let’s go! I really want some nice fried fish right now. And a beer.”

Tao rubbed his side with a dramatic pout as he followed Jongdae, who almost skipped to get his shoes. The pout soon faded into a smile, both proud and nostalgic in nature.

It was true though. Tao might be a stubborn, maybe even difficult person, but for Jongdae, he was always willing to give. Nothing was too troublesome or expensive if it put a smile on his face.

Jongdae had done a lot for Tao, and he’d never be able to pay him back.  
  


* * *

 

There’s something humans don’t realize. It’s not their fault, they are simply not ready yet.

Time is difficult to grasp and understand, and the senses of most living beings are limited, making them believe that time flows steadily, from past to future, like a river. That would be accurate - if someone were to place multiple black holes into said river. Because time was all over the place, and so were the lives swimming around it. Tao knew about this, even though he lacked the skill to actually calculate the exact flow. He wondered whether humans would ever find out, and whether that would mean the end of their race.

They will get closer to understanding time, though. They will find out and then proceed to teach each other. They’d soon understand that humanity changed so utterly slowly because the pool of souls was limited, and people were reborn over and over and over again. And because there was no known way to tell _when_ a soul was reborn, some of the oldest souls might waste their wisdom in a primitive time, while young souls were clueless, blank papers lost in the future. There was no need to worry much about that, though, because that was the nature of time. Everything happened, had already happened, was a stable, woven band of millions of souls that pulsed peacefully.

 

Either way, due to time being so stubborn and unpredictable, it should be okay to say this:  
  


Meanwhile, in the far future…  
  


❍

 

There was a lot of noise surrounding Zitao, an ocean of vague chatter that rose as soon as people caught a glimpse of him. Casually, he placed his hand over the shiny, classy bag he was wearing and waited for his sign to start walking. The sign to start reveling in the noticeable clicking of shutters. The red carpet was plush and expensive beneath his feet. The childish part of him would have loved to toe off his shoes and walk across it in socks or even bare-footed. But the childish side of Zitao was currently asleep, dozing, as Huang Zitao, one of Earth's most enigmatic and successful models strutted over the red carpet in a dark, tailor made suit jacket made of alien fabric that seemed to actively absorb light. It had been paired with a peach-colored, sleek, almost antique-looking dress shirt that was all simple, sharp lines, and a tight pair of lacquer pants as well as simple shoes, belt and a transparent handbag. Everyone knew that Zitao had stylists, and not too few, but he was also infamous for having a major say in what he wore and what not. He wasn't a puppet for anyone to dress, and nothing had changed about that since his humble debut at the tender age of 14. Well, humble might be a bit of a stretch, but looking at him now made the brat that demanded 'less trashy' clothes to choose from during his audition look like a humble sweetheart.

He could have gone for a more flashy look, but Zitao had a great body and sometimes, he felt like showing that off in a classy way. It worked, always did, and so he walked down the carpet as if he was the main attraction of the event. Maybe he was.

Through his slightly violet-tinged sunglasses, rows and rows of heads and camera lenses flew by, dim lights sparkling around and above them. A few shimmery lines signaled that the protective shield was up and working, and Zitao took it as a sign to fully throw himself into his role - there was no danger ahead and even if there was, it was his manager's job to look out for it. He kept his back straight as he walked and waited until he stood in the designated spot before turning to the crowd to his right and smiling. The crowd went wild, and Tao had to concentrate to not let his sweet smile slip into a smirk. Worked every time. Besides, it looked much better if he wore a serious face while walking, and what meagre control Zitao had over the pictures of him flying around the net, he'd use.

Camera lenses, faces, a few screens with captions and lights. So many lights. It was a surreal sight, kinda like one of those four dimensional paintings he liked to look at when he was bored. He turned around, lifted the glasses so they could rest on his head, just for the photos, before he placed them back and walked the rest of the way. Through his ear piece - he was wearing the black one today, to match the outfit - Luhan was rattling down his schedule, reminding him that he had to leave the gala in two hours at the latest, to make it to the meeting he had at his company. Zitao texted him to shut up at some point, using just his eyes to work the visual keyboard projected across his sunglasses. Then he sadly had to take them off as he entered the building, allowing Luhan to gnaw his ear off even while he was trying to make small talk with the other attendants of the event.

 

* * *

 

_"So, if he's asking about that white ship-"_

"That was years ago, I doubt he will remember now," Zitao cut Luhan off as he exited the car, briefly tugging his outfit into place. There was no need to look good or even attractive to his higher ups, but there was no need to not look his best, either. Yes, even Tao knew that if he had to pick one deadly sin for himself, it would be Pride. Pride didn't necessarily translate to arrogance in his head - it was more about proving himself, showing no weakness.

There was no need for human security, not with the fields around them constantly scanning and interpreting the area, no doubt transferring the data to the security center, where bots and humans analyzed the data in real time.

_"Okay, but if he questions our last mission, then we'll go with-"_

"Why would they question it now, weeks later?" Tao asked right away, and Luhan made a frustrated sound. Zitao could vividly imagine the way he was messing up his naturally bubblegum pink hair, swaying from side to side in his desk chair.

_"But what else would it be?"_

"Maybe it's just a very big project," Zitao said, and there was no need to emphasize on the word project, because not only was Luhan not an idiot, but they'd also been using this code for years now. The front doors slid open and he passed through, feeling the subtlest of tingles as he was scanned and checked before the second pair of doors opened. Not the most elegant and modern scan, but there was no need to hide the fact that their front door had security.

" _Oh,_ " breathed Luhan, as if the mere thought had never occurred to him. Well, Luhan wasn't an idiot, he really wasn't. Zitao would rather call it... guilty as not-yet charged. They were very similar in that aspect, actually. It was simply a matter of who got antsy first and triggered the other’s instinct to play it cool and provide comfort.

Zitao walked through the empty hallways, each step echoing off the wall. He didn't encounter anyone - human staff was mostly unnecessary with how accurate bots could calculate and take care of formalities. They had a bunch of people who kept their systems safe and were constantly tinkering with them, but those people worked on another floor and were known to not leave their offices all that often. Zitao had stopped minding the emptiness long ago - he had spent enough time around trainers, fellow trainees and models for a lifetime.

He stopped in front of the CEO's door. There was no need to check the time as Luhan was constantly reminding him that he was already late by a minute or two. He punched his personal code into the keypad, adding a zero at the end to indicate that he came alone. Luhan didn't count. Soon after, the door opened with a noticeable click, barely moving. His boss had a thing for old-fashioned doors, saying they had a certain charm. Zitao confidently pushed it open to find his boss sitting in the adjacent room, behind a desk. The office was so sleek and modern that nearly every surface was iridescent and tinged in pale colors, just as it was currently fashionable.

" _Please let it be a big fish, I've been getting bored for real lately,_ " Luhan blabbered, and without acknowledging him, Tao stepped inside his CEO's office, instantly taking notice of the stranger sitting across him. The moment Tao entered, the young brunet turned his head to look at him. Tao's first impression was very clear and straight to the point.

_Ordinary._  
  


 ⃝

 

Flashing lights, a horizon of noise, crashing down on him in waves. Someone yelled for the crowd to put their hands up, someone egged them on to scream. Tao just waited, just took in one deep breath of adrenaline, anticipation, heavy nervousness crashing down in his stomach to try and mess him up - and then the lights turned on, a blinding white that would have rendered him helpless if not for his sunglasses. Like this, he was anything but helpless. His straight posture, the self-assured smirk and the way the crowd rioted were proof that right now, Zitao was powerful. He didn't fire his ammunition carelessly. The tension was something to wear like a shield and sword alike, and Z.Tao had a reputation to uphold. He rapped all on his own for a solid minute or two, with the others hyping him up on stage, and he knew he had done a good job when the crowd's noise level rose even more after he passed word to the newest addition of their crew, a flighty, but determined young boy named Chanyeol. It wasn't all that easy to have the crowd accept a new face on stage - one had to prove oneself and that was something Chanyeol had to do on his own - but at least the crowd was now excited and ready to be blown away. None of their worries were shown and when their newbie executed his parts with close to no stumbles, Tao took over again, smoothing out the atmosphere.

It was no secret that he and his partner were the highlight of the evening. They'd been performing on their own for years, with Zitao as the rapper and concept creator and his Japanese buddy Mitsu as a producer who took to stepping on the stage as well in the past year. They were a powerhouse duo known for making experimental rap music with both outlandish concepts and lyrics. Small club stages like this were getting more and more unusual these days. Sure, it had taken years for a festival to book them, and Tao had been feeling impatient a lot - but he knew that success took time. He also knew that people probably weren't ready for him yet. After all, his thoughts and style were infused with memories of a far future. He knew for a fact that he was going to be a heavy influence on the future. Somewhere in the far future, a model and celebrity called Zitao would wear clothes that wouldn't have come to existence without self made rapper Tao kicking off a similar artistic movement years ago.

It was completely beyond human understanding, but Zitao grew up with his memories from a past life and had had enough time to come to terms with it. It was funny how he was at total peace with the secret knowledge about an advanced future, and could still be puzzled by anything at all, considering how primitive his life was, in comparison. And yet there was something he just couldn't get over. That something was a person, and Tao looked in his general direction as he bid farewell to the crowd. It was impossible to see him now, but earlier, during a segment where the crowd had been highlighted, he had caught a long, good look at Jongdae.  
He’d been standing in the second row, his dress shirt discarded for a casual shirt and the orderly hair all mussed up - he must have come straight from work. He looked at home, with his happily shining eyes. Jongdae always looked at home, always blended in, always made it look so genuine. How anyone could manage to blend in and stick out like this at the same time, Tao would never know. Jongdae was just an intricate, enigmatic person that he felt honoured to be close to.

 

❍

 

Zitao had never in his life seen a person this _ordinary_. Aesthetic genetic manipulation over many, many generations had led to Jongdae looking like a relict of ancient times. He had hair of an utterly boring, matte chestnut brown, as well as brown eyes, natural-colored lips, skin and nails (though a coloring of those was rather rare, to be fair), and no visible natural tattoos anywhere. How could anyone possibly look so boring? Zitao himself loved to experiment with hair colors and contacts, but he boasted naturally burgundy-colored hair, which he was very fond of, as well as amber-colored eyes. He couldn’t imagine looking like this and choosing not to do anything about it.

“Hi,” he said, plain as his looks, and Zitao instinctively looked at his boss in question.

“That’s Kim Jongdae,” he replied to the unspoken question in the typically dismissive tone he got when asked unnecessary questions, “your partner for this project. Have a seat.”

Jongdae. For a second, Zitao just stood there, stunned to silence.

" _Jongdae. That rings a bell, doesn't it?"_ Luhan asked, ripping Zitao out of his short-lived reverie. His boss shot him a questioning look and he hurried to sit down, still peeking at that Kim Jongdae, who looked politely worried, before turning to his boss again.

"As I was saying, there's a new project on the table and we'll need the two of you as mains, with our technical support running in the background, as usual."

Kim Jongdae wore a pleasantly neutral expression right now and Zitao silently convinced himself that he must hide some swirls or patterns beneath his clothing - there had to be _something_. No one could be this bare.

"Let me introduce you to the target first."

With this, the boss swiped over the wood of his desk, utilizing sensors only he could see, and the projectors on the walls came to life, humming very silently as they created a crisp, three dimensional portrait of a man above the desk for them to see.

“ _Asian roots. Rich as fuck, judging by the accessory and grooming. Late twenties, probably_. _The photo was taken at the flora gala two years ago - he's influential and probably a philanthropist,“_ Luhan brabbled into his ear, and the boss shot Zitao a stern look that wasn’t meant for him.

“Put your mic on speaker, please.”

Zitao did as told, acting nonchalant even though he felt like apologizing on Luhan’s behalf. Obviously, the CEO had permanent access to Luhan’s channel when Zitao was nearby, but Luhan tended to forget about that. Knowing that he was put on speaker, he instantly shut up. His boss waited for a second, as if daring him to say anything else, before he continued.

“The person of interest is called Kris Wu, born Yifan Wu, and current CEO of Inyin industries, one of the biggest manufacturers when it comes to visualizing equipment.”

Zitao threw a glance at the other guy, who didn’t seem surprised at all. He had probably known what he’d been summoned for, unlike Zitao himself.

“On the side, Wu cooperates with black companies like Shuuyu or Wey,” his boss added, pausing to shoot them a meaningful look. That rang a bell, but not loud enough to remember anything specific, but both Kim Jongdae and Luhan instantly picked up on it.

“ _Viruses_ ,” Luhan said gravely.

“Illegal and aggressive market manipulation,” Kim said. Luhan coughed, a little flustered at his own lack of finesse.

“ _Yeah, what he said_.”

His boss just nodded.

“Put enough money on the table and he’ll twist the whole economy in a relatively small time frame. It’s getting out of hand and needs to stop.”

“What makes the case so difficult?" Zitao asked. _So difficult that we need to team up with someone_ , was the unspoken implication. Another swipe across the desk and more and more projections showed up - company names and faces, all linked with lines and numbers.

"His security is top notch with Zhang Yixing not leaving his side," he began, pointing at a soft-looking, young man. Above his head, teal writing spelled out the name of a big bodyguard union that Zitao knew was providing services for the most endangered politicians and celebrities.

"They play it off as a friendly relationship, but Zhang isn't there for friendship or even protection. He takes out potential dangers cleanly and efficiently. We lost two men to them already and we don't know what happened up to this day."

Zitao grimaced. Usually, at least parts of the victims were found. Seemed like Zhang Yixing was a man of action. Those were the scariest.

"His right hand man is Kim Minseok, assistant and lover."

" _Gorgeous_."

"Luhan, please. Not a taken guy. You're better than that," Zitao retorted without thinking, and Luhan's airy protests were cut off by a very impatient look that silenced them both. Not like Zitao could really accuse Luhan of anything. This guy definitely looked just as youthful if not more so than the other two, and he could see the appeal. Still, Zitao had seen a lot of people in his life, and he saw maturity and experience if it jumped at him like this. This man was way older than he seemed - which wasn't too hard to picture if you spent your time around people addicted to youth and staying young.

"He might be Wu's only vulnerability, but we'll go into finer details later. For now, Kim here is infiltrating the company undercover to gather more information. That means you two will stay put for now," he emphasized and Zitao nodded. His boss had no other choice but to believe him. He was that good of a liar.

"Good. We would usually prefer for you guys not to be linked at all, but we can't trust in the other side not finding out about you two communicating. They're that good. In order to stay believable, Kim will be a digital designer for Zitao."

Zitao couldn't keep the protest off his expression - he felt like a kid who was involuntarily teamed up by a teacher. Digital designers differed from traditional designers in that they often accompanied their fledgling to tweak digitally created designs and get an overall feeling of what had to be done. It would be like having a stylist with him, and god knows Zitao was glad for every staff member that _wasn't_ buzzing around his head.

" _Isn't that way too obvious?_ " Luhan tried, but the boss shook his head.

"No. Kim works as a trainee in the digital area for them, and since your designer fell sick, he's acting as a replacement, just for the time being."

"My designer," Zitao echoed, waiting for further clarification because his designers were long past the 'following you around' state.

"Yes. Park Doyoung," he began, gesturing at a completely foreign face, "a childhood friend of Kim. That's why he's replacing him," the other elaborated and Zitao nodded reluctantly. Apparently, they had already gone through fabricating a whole story for this, so there was no way out for him.

"Good," his boss said again, and there was a faint sense of satisfaction in his voice. Zitao felt a prick in his ego, but kept his mouth shut. The holograms all disappeared, but none of them relaxed.

"So I assume we're all set? You're all ready to commit to this?"

"Sure," Zitao said easily.

" _It'll be a challenge, so let's give it a shot_ ," Luhan added, and not even their strict boss bothered to grill him on the word choice suggesting that there was more than one shot. It was mighty unfair how the boss had some sort of soft spot for Luhan, but it usually came to Zitao's advantage, so he wasn't going to complain.

"Under one condition," Kim Jongdae said. Zitao had almost forgotten about him.

"You're choosing _now_ to voice your condition?" the boss replied, quite unhappily, and Zitao leaned a little towards them. Giving the boss contra, and last minute at that, was a sly move. After all the preparation they went through, he’d be hard pressed to deny his demands now. Now _that_ was a fun and interesting turn of events.

Kim Jongdae looked unperturbed.

"No killing," he said calmly, and Zitao's almost gleeful expression vanished like a blown out candle flame. _Seriously_?

"I'm an undercover agent, not a murderer. I want the main goal to be catching them alive."

Luhan was deadly silent but Zitao lacked that reservation.

"Are you aware that I'm an assassin? If that guy's half as serious as we were just told, then playing lawful goodie two shoes will be suicide-"

"That's my condition, and I'm not going to budge," Jongdae cut him off calmly, shooting him nothing but a side glance before focusing on the very strained-looking man before them. Bristling, Zitao also stared at his superior in expectation. There was no way he'd let some random employee make the rules-

"Fine. No killing unless it's unavoidable."

Zitao wanted to slam his head on the desk. He, an assassin with a great track record, was being hired to _not_ assassinate anyone. Great.

As if that weren't enough already, Jongdae didn't let go.

"Who judges that?" he asked, a thin layer of suspicion coating the air.

"The person who would die a gruesome death if they don't defend themselves," came the sharp reply. This Jongdae guy seemed smart enough to stop pushing buttons at the right time, and smiled.

"Great. Then I'm in."

Zitao didn't say another word and after saying their professional goodbyes, he left the office first, feeling vaguely angry, kinda disappointed and highly annoyed.

" _What a bummer! I wish I hadn't agreed so quickly, this is gonna be boring as shit_ ," Luhan started complaining as soon as their channel was on private again. Zitao flinched when someone touched his arm, and whirled around to see Jongdae standing behind him in the empty hallway.

"What is it?" he asked, muting Luhan temporarily.

"Shouldn't we go over the details of the case?" he asked, looking a bit confused. Zitao was honestly done for now, and crossed his arms.

"Nah, I got a fitting I'm already late for. After that, a shooting, then an interview at five and a meeting at the studio in the evening. Also, you shouldn't try to surprise me if you value all your limbs. Can't guarantee what I'll do on instinct."

Instead of getting discouraged or maybe angry, Jongdae just shrugged.

"Well, I'll accompany you, then. After all, that's my new job."

The nonchalance was even more infuriating and Zitao just wanted a break to get over his annoyance and come to terms with the situation. Joke was on him, however, because apparently, this particular job would follow him around all day. He turned up Luhan again, so his vivid complaints could cover up anything else Jongdae might be saying. If he even said anything else.  
  


 ⃝

  
When the door to their apartment opened, it was approaching midnight. Noticing the light, Tao immediately took off his headphones and looked up from his laptop.

"Welcome home."

Jongdae shot him a weak smile.

"Hi," he said, barely audibly, before he proceeded to toe off his shoes as if he wished to never have to put them on ever again. While he disappeared into the bathroom, Tao got some light leftovers from the fridge and set them on the living room table, where he waited. Not too long after, Jongdae collapsed on the couch, taking up all the space Tao left him, his head digging into Tao's thigh. He looked tiny and tired, and Tao snatched a piece of sushi off the plate to feed Jongdae, who gratefully accepted the offer.

"You're the best," he sighed as Tao absently rubbed his shoulder and side.

"Do you really have to stay in _that_ long?"

"Well. I'm a newbie. Got no choice, really..." Jongdae yawned.

Tao only lightly shook his head.

"You're just too diligent at your job."

Jongdae just smiled and closed his eyes, peace finally taking over as his expression relaxed.

 

❍

 

This guy was already too much.

Zitao was being grumpy and he knew it. That knowledge didn't help him much, however, considering that there was currently no way to vent that annoyance. He stared at the street through the colored front window of his car, slave to his querulous thoughts merrily running in circles.

_He immediately stuck to me like a paparazzi. This is gonna be a nightmare. Stuck with an overly righteous sissy. He'd probably report them if they took a single wrong step. This felt way more like a burden instead of help already._

" _And wait til we get to the actual action part_ ," Luhan quipped. Apparently, Zitao had thought a bit too loudly, causing the sensors to pick it up.

"It'll be fantastic," he said curtly, unwilling to give the guy next to him more context, but also refusing to keep the thought in. Luhan had this way of dealing with frustration by using snarky to flat-out sardonic remarks, and on any other occasion, Zitao would have gladly joined him. Right now, however, the car was driving them to the studio and next to him sat that Jongdae guy. He was just waiting for him to speak up, to try and get him to talk about their upcoming job. So far he hadn't said a word though, and simply adjusted the color of his shirt from a sophisticated, dark silver to a dull, washed out black, making it look like worn out cotton instead of the high tech fiber it was. It looked quite shoddy, to be honest, and opening the buttons on the sleeve to roll them up a little did nothing to help. Admittedly, Zitao had a tendency to dramatic behaviour, but it took him every single ounce of acting skills not to grimace at the sight of Jongdae rolling up his sleeves - he only went halfway up his forearm and still managed to make it look messy. Then he did something that looked like wiping his hands down the front of his shirt, causing the lightest stains Zitao wished he couldn't pick up.

" _Someone's comfy, huh?_ " Luhan chirped, this time obviously gleeful at how ticked off Zitao was. Luhan himself was an expert at pushing his buttons, and when he was particularly bored, he liked to point out sloppy people and fashion just to rile Zitao up a bit. 'I wish he was a little less comfy,' Zitao thought, not planning on saying anything out loud while he was annoyed and unreasonable (a valuable lesson he'd had to learn early on during his career), but when Jongdae started to casually run his apparently dirty fingers through his slicked back hair to mess it all up, shaking it up again and again, he couldn't hold back anymore.

"Are you trying to spread dandruff all over the place? Because that's what it currently looks like," he said, purposefully calm, but in no way faking friendliness. Only the best for his co-workers, Zitao thought sarcastically.

It wasn't like he was the guy to identify himself by expensive things like the car he was sitting in - but he was definitely the type of guy who didn't act carelessly around things that cost a shit ton of money, and there was not a single reason for Jongdae to perfect his hobo look on his white leather seats.

"My scalp is very healthy, I can assure you that," Jongdae replied with neutral politeness that just couldn't be real.

"Then what _are_ you doing?"

"Getting ready for the job?" Jongdae asked back, still not unfriendly in any way. "No one would buy the idea of a travelling digital designer looking like a businessman."

"And a hobo look is that much better?" he asked doubtfully, and Jongdae hummed.

"Yep."

In his earpiece, Luhan snorted unattractively.

_"Did he just say that all designers look like shit? Because if so, he has a point."_

Unfortunately, he did. Not that Zitao liked to admit it. But most designers he had a lot of respect for, dressed like a dusty crow themselves.

"Even if the look fits, can you actually work those programs and stuff? Cause the outfit won't save you if they ask you questions."

Yes, he was still being grumpy. In his defense, he was a little annoyed by himself, too. But also by Jongdae. Zitao had wanted his distance and space, and hadn't gotten it, so now they were forced to endure each other.

"Eh, it's enough to wing it," Jongdae shrugged, wrinkling his shirt a little more, uncaring of Zitao's pained expression. "You shouldn't expect me to actually design you something though."

"I didn't."

"Good."

Zitao stared ahead and at the busy street. The car's screens told him that they'd arrive any minute now. For a few seconds it was silent (except for the purring motor and the faint sound of Luhan eating chips over his earpiece). Then they both spoke up at once.

"Say-"

"So-"

Jongdae looked at him patiently from under his now messy bangs.

"You first."

Zitao hadn't even _really_ meant to speak up, but there was no backing out now.

"Jongdae isn't your real name, is it?"

A flicker of surprise made way for amusement.

"Of course not," he replied easily. "Why are you asking?"

"No reason," Zitao dismissed him, staring at the numbers on the car's dashboard. "What did you want?"

"Oh, ask about how you usually approach jobs like this one, so we know what to expect-"

"And here we are," Zitao cut him off, just as the car automatically parked in the best spot available. Jongdae shot him an unimpressed look and Zitao felt a pang of satisfaction as he replied with a tauntingly innocent shrug and got out of the car.

With every step towards the building, down the hallway and into the elevator, Zitao felt the stress ebbing away. When he heard the muffled sounds of people bustling around in the distance, he couldn't help but allow the smile sneaking up on him. No more low-key bitching around with the new guy - time to get shit done, and get it done his way.

It felt good to leave everything but the model Huang Zitao behind. Sure, Luhan was still around, keeping tabs on everything and thus keeping him safe, which was exactly the reason why Zitao could relax like this in the first place. It felt like taking a nice, familiar swim, the way he dipped into the world of fashion, with people bustling around him, communicating, sending verbal and nonverbal signals. He was led to the dressing room for the appointed fitting session.

Smartly programmed machines had taken over most of the simple jobs, and while taking measurements and sewing perfectly fitting clothing should be one of them, people still needed him to throw on the clothing and allow the professionals to bustle around him, tugging at the fabric and manually adjusting the fit. Sure, they had his measurements, the most trusted designers even got them in real time, and the digital dressing software did a fantastic job at giving previews of what clothes would look like on him - but nothing was quite like seeing an outfit worn in real life. There were always subtle differences in impression, and while most shots were printed on paper or displayed on screens (maybe even in three dimensions), professionals claimed that it was essential to not just blindly stick to the software. Zitao agreed with them - like in any craft, machines and software could do a flawless job, but when it came to art, flaws and unexpected results were the factors that ultimately drew you in.

He wore a transparent, shiny suit over a pastel-colored, woolen top. A pair of fancy boots running higher than mid-thigh, complimented by a short-legged jumpsuit. Dressing, undressing, allowing people to open zips, lifting his feet so someone could slip socks with little woven-in gemstones over them. Outfit for outfit passed in what should be a blur, but Zitao wasn't drunk and merely enjoyed the quick pace, exchanging commentary on the outfits with the designers. Compliments, concerns, suggestions.  
_What if the stones get caught up in a buckle, do you want me to shave for the shoot, did you implement a surface imitating diamonds in this fabric, because it looks great-_

By the time he slipped into his wide, comfy pants and his favourite shirt made of real eri silk, over an hour had passed and he remembered Jongdae for the first time since he entered the building. He only remembered him because he sat at a table in the back, chatting with other staff members, a tablet loosely resting on his lap.

" _Shouldn't you go over to him? He's your current designer_ ," Luhan suggested in a voice that hinted that he himself wasn't wildly excited about Jongdae, either.

'Can it be canon that I don't want him to be my designer? _'_ Zitao sullenly asked back in his mind, prompting Luhan to jump at the opportunity.

" _Sure, why not? Zitao, old hand at modelling, is tired and unwilling to show a newbie the ropes_ ," he began thoughtfully, and Zitao saw the drop before it happened. " _Is it because he likes experienced hands on him? Or does he miss his old designer, Doyoung, the good old lad he might have shared many nice moments and beds with_ -"

' **Fine** , I'm going over. You won, fuck you, and now please stop - I don't wanna imagine naked, middle-aged men, thank you very much,' Zitao relented, resisting the urge to throw his hands up. He walked over to take the free seat next to Jongdae, his mood already a little clouded again. Jongdae looked away from the rookie stylists and staff members at the table to give him a bright smile.

"All went well, I assume?"

"Yeah," Zitao replied, curt and neutral.

" _You're a better actor than this_ ," Luhan commented. " _You're more stubborn than a donkey."_

Zitao replied with an accusation of Luhan being all over the map with his sayings again - which Jongdae didn't hear, of course.

"Great, should we head on to the shooting, then?"

"Considering that the shooting's right over there, I think I can manage the way as soon as it's my turn," Zitao said in a flat voice, pointing at the far off corner of the room they were already in.

"Oh."

Jongdae looked actually flustered, and the staff showed mixed reactions from cooing to shaking their heads. Digital designers weren't quite like assistants for everything, but knowing their model's schedule should be a given. Zitao didn't bother elaborating that it was his first day, and neither did Jongdae. It felt like a silent competition between them at this point. Zitao wasn't sure what the competition entailed or what the winner would get out of it and while he was still very unimpressed by the goody two shoes wannabe spy, he liked people with fighting spirit. And a challenge. If it was one.

"They're calling for you," a young staff member said, approaching the table awkwardly. Formalities were almost a no-go in this business, and yet newbies had trouble overcoming them when addressing a senior. Zitao didn't comment on it and just elegantly got to his feet (one might doubt that there is such a thing as elegantly standing up from a cheap plastic chair, but Zitao was a _professional_ ).

"I'll be off, Mr. Designer," he said to Jongdae, as if telling his mother he was leaving for school. "Cheer me on."

The challenge was so subtle he was certain no one but Jongdae or Luhan had noticed it. Jongdae smiled.

"Of course. I can't wait to take notes."

It would be an odd thing for a challenge to entail, but Zitao was one to not only go all the way, but also to go all the way back again just to inform his contestant that he'd won. He'd impress this guy who knew nothing about the fashion business - Jongdae wouldn't even know what hit him.

Zitao leaned towards him, with a cat-like grin.

"You better watch closely, then," he said lowly, and turned away from the wary staff (who was trying to figure out whether Zitao hated his new designer or had the hots for him).

It wasn't the first time that Zitao was happy about the influence he had on shootings. There was a range of garments to choose from, as well as a simple set up consisting of an armchair and a bunch of interchangeable carpets and decorations stacked at the side. The lighting was top notch and currently set on a rich gold, much to his satisfaction. Sure, he could fit into just about any concept, but gold was his color. It worked wonders for his sun-kissed skin and his currently sandy-blonde hair. He got his make up touched up and then he could finally slip into the first set of clothes and start posing. Though to be perfectly honest, it was closer to strutting. Zitao was layering the intensity and lusciousness on so thick that the photographer was completely taken aback, and gladly adjusted the concept slightly along the way. Zitao sprawled himself into the armchair in the most exotic poses, showing off his flexibility, surrounded by lush, handmade carpets.

At some point, he let his jacket fall down until it bunched around his arms, and the stylist reacted quickly, decking his bare, upper body in Amir, the alien gemstone that had long stolen the spotlight of diamonds and gold. Zitao loved the dark, mysterious twinkle the polished, violet stone had, and it suited his type perfectly. He stretched towards the camera just right minutes later, back lying on the carpet and feet loosely resting on the chair. Intense, mysterious gazes melted into tension, and driven by the adrenaline and the role he was playing, Zitao's bejeweled hand slid down his own side with purpose, ending just above his crotch. Careful to keep his expression lustful, but controlled, he slipped three fingers under the hem of his pants. For the next shot, he flat-out groped himself over the jeans, while expensive stones twinkled in the light. The magazine this shooting was for had a high end audience, meaning it was alright to go all out. He knew the photographer and knew she wouldn't make the shot look cheap, but expensive. And Zitao liked looking expensive.

They were rearranging set pieces around him for a few final shots with the outfit when Zitao met Jongdae's gaze. To his dissatisfaction, he didn't look even a little flustered. To his satisfaction, though, he wasn't taking notes either, the tablet lowered in his grip as he seemed captivated by what Zitao was doing.

Maybe this was an easy win, after all.

While the set was adjusted yet again and after Zitao had shimmied himself into yet another tight pair of pants, he wandered off to the sides, towards Jongdae, with a calculated little smile.

"What do you say? You think they're complimenting my ass?" he asked, turning around and showing off the barest hint of transparency in the fabric, fingers running down the tight, stretched fabric.

"Probably?" Jongdae asked, sounding not very enthusiastic, as if Zitao had asked him an outlandish question he had never spent a thought on. "I wouldn't know, but if the photographers like it, it's gotta be good."

Zitao could _hear_ the shrug, and turned to seek his face for a glimpse of something more, a glimpse of interest, lust- but there was none. Jongdae was looking at him, patiently waiting for a hint as to where this was going. Yes, he was a devilishly good actor, but Zitao saw spite when he was confronted with it. Jongdae really wasn't fazed.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you're _straight_ ," he blurted out, exasperated over how much more boring this guy could get. He could see the other lifting his brows just a little, an unimpressed edge slipping onto his expression.

"Well, not like _you're_ gonna change that," he said, looking him up and down, and Zitao had to stop himself from gaping. How dare he?

He stared, faintly hearing Luhan play up the situation to make fun of him. Then he closed his slightly parted lips and exhaled through his nose. Controlled. Steady.

"I need a coffee," he said, then tapped a passing staff member, asking whether they had coffee anywhere.

"Ahh, we just ran out, I'm so sorry," the guy said with a sympathetic grimace. "But there's a store across the street," he said _to Jongdae_ , "just tell them it's on us, and maybe bring a few more if you don't mind. Of course you can get one for yourself, too."

Zitao blinked and stared at Jongdae, who stared at the staff member. Of course the staff member would naturally assume the rookie designer would be the one running the errands. This was not what Zitao had in mind - it was no fun to oppress people with the power of his name. Winning over someone like that was simply no fun. But butting in now to demand otherwise would be odd-

"Sure. Do you have any preferences?" Jongdae asked, smiling brightly at him, and lifting his pen to take notes.

"Vanilla. Iced," Zitao said, feeling an unwanted pang of guilt and seeking Jongdae's eyes. They betrayed nothing.

 

* * *

 

_"Are you not gonna come online?"_

"No, I'll be right there, gimme a minute. I gotta get changed."

Even as Zitao said that, he just kept sitting on his bed, staring into his open wardrobe. He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights and dawn was starting to paint everything in dull, subdued shades of blue. They were boring, but also a nice change from all the neon lights, flashes and screens that were assaulting his eyes all day.

_"Whatcha thinking about? Jongdae?"_

Zitao huffed, but there was a smile on his face.

"Man, one day I'll just mute you. This is cyber-terror."

_"It's only terror if I hack past your passwords - you're allowing me around, man. And also I'm waiting for you while you mope around, so hurry and tell me so we can get to kicking some ass."_

"Didn't you notice his name?" Zitao asked, toes digging into his plush, cream-colored carpet.

_"Jongdae? What about it? Or do you mean his real name, cause I haven't found out yet-"_

"No, Jongdae," Zitao corrected. "It's the same name as Tao's partner."

_"Oh."_

Only Luhan could manage stuffing so many emotions in one syllable. Realization, curiosity, apprehension, insecurity, and a silent challenge for him to keep talking. But there was nothing more to say.

"Odd coincidence, right?"

Historical recordings weren't complete, especially going back before every person's general data was saved in a homogenous format. Most people didn't know about their past lives. Zitao did. At the very least in one life, he'd been a public figure, too, meaning that there was information left over. He'd been an artist, a semi-famous rapper who was clearly influenced by futuristic styles and introduced them early. Obviously, Zitao had dug as deep as he could and found out that apparently, he had been gay and in a happy relationship with someone called Kim Jongdae, a very smart tech guy who he found nothing about. No pictures, no further info, nothing.

Names changed, of course. Influenced by time, location and backgrounds, some people ended up with a variety of different names throughout their lives. It was close to a miracle that Zitao had had a name this similar in a past life.

It would also be a miracle if two people with memories of their former life would meet again in another one. Only a very selective number of people were given the highly sought after implant that Zitao was currently staring at. It had been implanted into his inner forearm years ago, and if you looked very closely, you could see it shimmering through the skin. It took years to really take effect, something between ten and fifteen, but you only really knew when you became an adult in your next life; when your body matured and all the memories would form. Zitao's was five years old. Five to ten more years of good service and he'd be guaranteed to remember his past life, as long as he didn't remove the implant at any time.

The very few people who were granted the privilege were usually scientists and otherwise smart people that were guaranteed to benefit humanity, but being an assassin for the government sure helped. They'd probably give him a list of people they'd like to see assassinated by him in his next life, but new life, new job. No one could force him to do anything, and Zitao would like to choose his way of life according to the time he'd be born in.

And would he choose a life alongside Jongdae, on his own accord? Probably not.

 _It's not the same Jongdae_ , Zitao told himself. _It was a coincidence, nothing more_.

He shouldn't think too much into it.

 _"Hey, hey, you think a future version of him acquires the option to time-travel and take revenge on you for your pettiness?"_ Luhan asked, ripping him out of his thoughts entirely. Ripping them for good, really.

"Oh, shut up."

_"Then come onliiine, I'm gonna abandon you."_

"Fine, you little pest. I'm on it."

_"Big pest, after I get that stupid spell."_

"You're already a big pest in my heart," Zitao said with fake sappiness before he got up to slip into his pajamas, looking forward to some distraction from thinking about Jongdae.

 

* * *

 

_"Hurry up, man. They're already getting the bill."_

Zitao didn't waste a thought on snapping back at Luhan. He was right. He grabbed another dress shirt off the rack and kindly told the assistant that he'd try them on. She didn't try to follow him to the changing cabin - Zitao had made it clear in the past that he could very well get dressed and make buying decisions on his own.

He walked down the aisles, shoes clacking on the greenish tiles of a small hallway connecting the clothes department with the food court.

" _Take the third one_ ," Luhan instructed.

Shim Iwo was not the type of guy to eat in food courts, but he was the type to make shady deals with other tech-based companies, basically whoring out his skilled employees under conditions they couldn't escape. He was an asshole kind of guy. Who people wanted to see gone.

Zitao leisurely slipped into the changing cabin, dumping his clothes along the hooks lining the wall. With quick, efficient moves, he shrugged off his jacket and took off the sunglasses, placing them aside for now.

" _They're paying_."

Zitao wasn't talking, but he was listening, as he pulled his shirt over his head, placing it over the chair. It might be a quirk of his, but he worked best with little fabric in the way. Just the mere presence of even half-long sleeves irked him sometimes, so he was certainly going to take advantage of this setting.

" _Didn't even tip. Bastard_."

Luhan was always ready to fight for the proletariat, despite spending most of his time cooped up in a semi-dark, windowless room, only experiencing society through screens and microphones. Zitao liked that about him.

" _They're taking the elevator, as expected_."

There was a fancy restaurant located over the food court, and they'd been looking at the building's floor plan for a while now, calculating. Speculating. This was the most logical route to take as it was the shortest to reach the park decks. Sure, there was still luck involved, but when was there not? Zitao wasn't afraid of running out of luck - that's what he had skills for. He definitely had respect for _bad_ luck though. Bad luck was like an inverted, mean version of luck to him, a totally separate entity that liked to peek into people's lives just to casually fuck them over. Luhan liked to call him superstitious. He might be right about it.

Either way, while bad luck might exist, Zitao didn't usually spend time worrying about it. Bad luck could strike regardless of the circumstances, so wasting too many thoughts on it would only drag down his performance.

" _I'll give you a projection but no guarantees. He might wear insoles today_."

Zitao stretched his back muscles and then fumbled off the tiny stick dangling from his earring. He screwed open the end of the silver, decorative object and stuck it into his wrist watch. Everyone wore a wrist watch, and most people wore earrings. Heck, Zitao had had an affinity for long earrings even before he'd made his first kill. Which is exactly why they came up with this construction. It entailed only a single, tiny shot, but he only got one chance, anyway. He knelt down, quickly finding the most comfortable angle to look under the door and into the hallway. It was cramped and the side of his head was pushed into the fuzzy carpet, but the ground gave him a nice stability, as well.

Blindly, he reached for the sunglasses, activating the tightening function. It pressed into his nose uncomfortably, but he could manage, for such a short time. It was better than risking it slipping even a little. Indeed Luhan had projected an estimate target picture, and while it couldn't give him information in terms of horizontal coordinates, it told him exactly which height to go for - and that was crucial.

Zitao relaxed. It sounded like an odd thing to do, crouched down on the floor in some changing cabin, the tiniest excuse for a gun stuck in his wrist watch. But he was a professional, and it wasn't quite unlike a fashion shooting. Sometimes he thought of this, how comically similar his jobs were.

" _Target's on the way, approximately ten seconds left_."

Zitao remained relaxed. He adjusted his height one last time, turned the projection down to 15% opacity, blinked, breathed. In.

" _Seven_."

Out.

" _Five_."

Locking his breath to acquire maximum security in his shot.

" _Three_."

Luhan always stopped counting at three, but Zitao didn't bother continuing the numbers in his head this time. He simply waited, and when two pairs of feet entered his sight, he quickly locked on to the pair of ankles peeking out under brown pants. He fired the shot by pressing his free thumb into the ring on his pointer finger, and there was neither a sound nor any confirmation that he hit his target.

_"Fuck yes."_

He had Luhan, though, who could tell with almost perfect certainty that he did. Though Zitao’s estimate usually wasn’t far off.  
The feet passed by, the conversation moved away, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Zitao didn't waste time and soundlessly got to his feet, clipping the empty pipe back to his earring. A routine that didn't require his attention at this point.

"You totally hit him. Good job."

"Good job to you, too," Zitao replied in his mind and meant it.

To be honest, Zitao was a bit proud of them for thinking of this. Not the poison needle - which was rarely used, but not completely off the grid. Though Luhan had kicked it up a notch by manipulating the poison inside the needle to screw with the duration for the poison to take effect, making it near impossible to mark the time the victim was shot. But no, Zitao was proud that they were using the latest trend of high ankled pants to their advantage. Bad fashion could kill, after all.

After an appropriate amount of time, Zitao left the cabin, buying two of the items he had taken along. He already had them in different colors - he wasn't going to waste money on clothing he'd have to return afterwards. Not for this kind of mission. He grabbed the fancy bag and went to the store's exit.

"I can’t believe you."

It wasn't easy to shock Zitao, but suddenly being faced with Jongdae (who was standing there, all crossed arms and unimpressed look) did the trick. He blamed it on Jongdae's height - Zitao wasn't one to walk through the world with a lowered head.

"Why are you here?" he asked, while Luhan whistled in his ear.

_"Mom caught us, great. Tell him it was your idea."_

"I'm here to pick you up, of course," Jongdae said, but there was no fake politeness this time. "And I can't believe you think this is the right time for some shopping. We're late."

Zitao didn't ask for what he'd be late. He was done with his schedules for the day, but if Jongdae wanted to add something - sure, why not? Zitao wasn't tired yet.

They walked through the shopping center without another spoken word. There were a few photos being taken here and there, and it was obvious that Jongdae felt uncomfortable by that. Zitao wasn't going to try and stop them from doing so - because that wasn't his style - but he wordlessly offered him his sunglasses, which Jongdae refused. _Suit yourself_ , he thought. Instead of putting them back on, Zitao tucked them into his shirt and faced the camera lenses with a smile.

'I can't believe you're out assassinating people in broad daylight,' Jongdae suddenly claimed, his annoyance carrying even via his thoughts (which wasn't a given - technology was well-developed, but transmitting the emotions was a bit tricky if you were inexperienced at using it).

'Well, I try to sleep at night, so...' Zitao trailed off, not intending to complete the statement. He wondered how Jongdae even knew what he'd been up to.

'Very funny. And subtle. I can't believe you're putting our mission at risk like this.'

The smile Zitao wore got a little strained around the edges.

'This is what I do, and it has nothing to do with this mission. I'm not gonna pause my entire life for doing nothing, collecting dust while you're sneaking around somewhere.'

Jongdae sighed. He sighed internally, hard enough for the transmitter to pick up on it.

'Look, I know you got nothing to do as of now, but could you please refrain from doing reckless shit just for a while? I'd rather not lose my head in this mission.'

Zitao actually rolled his eyes. And immediately felt like a teen again - one who gets a lecture on how to use a hoverboard by an overly careful parent.

'This was nothing, alright? I've been doing this for years,' he started, rattling down the facts, 'I know what I'm doing, I know this is our main mission, I won't be doing anything actually big, so you can stop worrying now.'

Jongdae didn't reply, but the unhappiness was clearly hanging in the air. Zitao didn't care. He didn't owe this guy anything, and he was pretty unhappy himself, right now. He had no idea that it would get worse, but that's exactly what happened when Jongdae plunged into the front seat of the car, commanding the navigation system to drive them to Zitao's apartment.

"Why?" was the only thing he asked, vaguely assuming their mission would finally start. Jongdae only shot him a quick glance.

"I'll be staying at your place for now. My stuff's in the trunk, but you gotta open the door and give me keys, which is why I came to get you."

"Fantastic," Zitao remarked sarcastically, and when the engine had already started, Jongdae replied, sighed into the car like an afterthought.

"You're telling me..."

 ⃝

 

"Sure, we'll message you the details tomorrow or something. Bye!"

Tao heard the muffled sound of the door closing and hurried to shift the tiny candlelight into position, throwing the lighter in one of the open boxes behind him.

"Oh my god, I'm so _tired_ ," Jongdae began, voice echoing through the still empty apartment. "And starving-"

He stopped in his tracks, figuratively and literally, when he saw the candles placed on the box in the center of the room, and Tao kneeling before it with an innocent look. Then he laughed.

"Really now?" he asked, eyes twinkling as he sat down opposite of his sappy lover. "Those must be the most romantic french fries that have ever french fried."

"You want something fancier?" Tao asked, only half-joking, but Jongdae shook his head.

"Not for anything in the world," Jongdae said swiftly, tugging the knot of the plastic bag open. "The smell alone is to die for- are those flowers?" he asked, lightly poking the handful of daisies that were unceremoniously sitting in a shot glass, "When did you pick them?"

Tao shrugged. "When you weren't paying attention to me."

Jongdae nudged his forearm, calling him a whiney baby, but it was Tao's turn to laugh when the bag ripped open and a flurry of plastic forks ended up everywhere.

Their whole cutlery was still in one of the boxes, so Tao had asked for plastic forks, and irritated by the unnecessary question, the more-than-done guy behind the counter had given him half a handful of the tiny, colorful forks. That were now strewn around the box like a bizarre replacement for rose petals. Tao just sat there, face propped up on his hands as he watched Jongdae pick them all up. He just felt so stupidly happy, so much so that a handful of dropped plastic cutlery was enough to make him smile. Seeing Jongdae was enough, really.

When Jongdae noticed his smile, he called him cheesy and useless, poking him with the forks and asking him to at least help. Tao had a better idea that involved kissing. Jongdae indulged him for about ten seconds before they decided that hot food had the highest priority right now.

And for some reason, it was even more magical than the kissing. Sitting together in a chaotic flat full of boxes, sharing their first meal after a long day, the first meal of many... something was just so perfect about this. Living together with Jongdae was like a dream come true.  
  


❍

 

Zitao opened the door with his key card, pressing his thumb on the sensor without much of a show. The lights in his apartment didn't go on automatically, because sometimes Zitao liked the dark, or preferred a certain setting. This time, he just blindly hit the light switch to his right, and the brightest setting almost burnt his eyes, reflecting off his white walls with their slightly iridescent, orange touch.

He didn't say anything and neither did Jongdae, who closed the door behind him, his duffel bag bumping into the frame along the way.

The higher ups had wanted them to live closer to each other, so they'd be more flexible, able to move and act quicker if it came down to it, and just not be too separated. Little did they know that at this point, separation would probably aid the mission more than hinder it. Despite having a voice perpetually commenting on his life, Zitao appreciated solitude every now and then. He wasn't an anti-social person, quite the opposite - but over the years he'd learnt that with his temper, it was sometimes for the best if he sought his distance. Not to mention that his job didn't allow him a lot of friends or, god forbid, an actual lover to bustle through his apartment on the regular and maybe stumble over a rifle. Not that he had one lying around... openly.

He slipped out of his shoes, orderly placed them in the open cupboard that swiftly closed and purred, storing the shoe away with the others. Admittedly, Zitao had a ridiculous amount of shoes, but his job served as a nice excuse for that.

Zitao didn't actually have a living room, a fact that the tabloids had loved to point out, as if it marked him an alien. He didn't really care - for someone who's barely home and gets close to no visits by anyone at all, a living room was nothing but a waste of space. Instead, he went into the kitchen, opened a small, inconspicuous cupboard and fished out a shimmery, green key card.

"There," he said, tossing it on the kitchen table. Jongdae was standing in the door frame, looking not too enthusiastic, but fleetingly taking in the environment.

"I got both apartments rented, 112 and 113," he explained as he went for the fridge, grabbing a chilled can of tea. "They're connected, but you can enter through door 113 so it looks less suspicious. The rooms are all renovated but I didn't bother buying two sets of kitchen supplies, so if you wanna cook something up, this is the place. I also didn't put any computers there."

"I brought my own."

"Cool," Zitao commented, not even enthusiastic enough to sound snarky or sarcastic. He just took a deep gulp of tea, icy liquid freezing his throat in the best way possible.

"I'm off, then. Get settled in or whatever," he said, waving at the second door leading out of the kitchen and into the guest part of the apartment, that was now Jongdae's. Strictly speaking, this was the reason why he had such a large apartment in the first place. Oh, and for the additional dressing space. Clothes and supplies just ramped up at some point.

Zitao went for a nice, refreshing shower, which was interrupted by Luhan at some point, who cheerfully announced that they'd succeeded and their target was down. Despite his satisfaction, Zitao pointedly remarked how _his_ work was the only one to follow him into the shower. Not like that could stop Luhan. Nothing could stop Luhan.

_"Alrighty, princess, I'm gone, but will you come online today or nah?"_

"Of course I will, now get lost," Zitao said, damp and full of exasperation as he reached for his shampoo.

_"Well, I figured you might wanna hang out with Jongdae-"_

"Luhan," Zitao said, dragging the name out. Silence.

"Privacy."

_"Fiiiine."_

While he was toweling his hair in front of the bathroom mirror, the memory of the previous events made him want to shake his head even hours later.  
What a busy day, full of nice and not so nice things. He washed out his in-shower cream and applied another film of protective cream to his face.  
Then it was finally time to bring this day to a relaxing end, and clad in comfy pants and a soft shirt and armed with a chilled yogurt drink, he made his way into the gaming room. Because a living room might be useless, but Zitao definitely had enough indulgence in himself to dedicate a separate room to gaming. It wasn't too big, with a small desk and a computer pushed in one corner, a very unspectacular couch and additional armchair in another, and the VR set placed in the center of it. Sensors and security wrappers hovered in the air, all fixed to both ceiling and ground.

Zitao took one of the gloves to turn on the system, giving it time to boot while he emptied his drink, placed the damp towel over the headrest of the chair by the desk and stretched himself. His bones actually cracked a bit, and Zitao grimaced, being a bit more thorough and careful with the stretching. A long day indeed. Along the three walls of the room (which were the only ones lacking an iridescent shimmer), his game was auto-starting, still a bit faint, but the projection was designed to be easy on the eyes and adjust over time. Zitao slipped into the gaming suit, which was really just a few selective pieces of fabric he wrapped around his arms and legs, connected with belts and loops he routinely tightened. Apparently, those were based off of hiking clothes - Zitao had only ever worn hiking clothes once, for a photoshoot, and he found gaming suits to be _much_ more comfortable. He could actually just fall into it, sit in it like a fancy type of hammock, but his feet weren't that tired yet. He put on the visor, smooth fabric pressing into the almost dried cream. Zitao could definitely not afford his skin to dry out, especially around the eye and mouth area, like a typical gamer. That would be a bad look. Now he just had to slip into the gloves and turn on the-

"Hey, do you got any- what... is this?"

Zitao lifted the visor to see Jongdae standing in the door, looking like someone smelling trouble. He probably smelled himself, Zitao thought bitterly.

"A VR set," he explained, overly slow.

"You're playing Wo2? In your position?"

"Am I not allowed to?" Zitao asked, clearly annoyed. Jongdae looked like he was about to get a headache. Maybe he already had one.

"You're telling me... that on top of being a model and- is this thing recording?"

"It's safe," Zitao groaned. As if Luhan and he would be this stupid. Jongdae only took it as a sign to fully let go of his exasperation.

"-on top of being a model and a fucking assassin, you run around in the online world, showcasing your physical skills and exposing yourself to just about everyone? Do you _want_ to get caught? Is that it?" he asked, rubbing his temples as if he couldn't believe he was stuck with Zitao. That feeling was definitely mutual and Zitao let go of his glove, which bounced back into place anticlimactically. He purposefully kept his voice down, but he had _enough_ , and he'd let Jongdae know it.

"Look, I took on this stupid mission. I'm keeping my head down. I even let you live in my house. Alright, no big deal. But if you wanna try and tell me how to spend my very sparse, fucking free time, then I'll kick your ass out, no matter into how much trouble I'll get for it. I'm assuming you'll believe me, considering how _reckless_ and _awful_ I am. Are we on the same page?"

Jongdae stared at him, defiance all over his face, but with a noisy exhale, he turned around to leave, closing the door.

Zitao huffed. Man, this day just wouldn't end. He shoved his hand into the glove, put the visor back on and finally logged in to take off some steam.

 


	2. Chapter 2

❍

 

Zitao was ducked away behind a few bushes, watching as his target for the night came closer. The world was dipped in golden light, luscious greens and pretty stone buildings not too far away. There was no killing allowed in city areas though, and Zitao was a lawful gamer. Why break the rules, anyway, if they allowed him to otherwise take out whoever he wanted?

This particular player had a nice, high level and would probably carry some valuable things with him. Seemed to be the reckless type, too.

To be very honest, Zitao didn't care about the valuables - he just wanted to take down people as strong as possible. In case they might put on a fight. Which would be fun.

He flexed his muscles one last time, waited until the right moment and leaped out of the bushes, feeling the way the sensors tightened, translating the movement to his muscles in real life. He placed a palm on the ground to push himself into the air, his leg forming a clean, elegant sickle until it hit his opponent’s neck, taking him before he could even reach for the fat broadsword on his back. He crashed down, with Zitao landing on top of him.

_"Yo, Tao."_

A tick of annoyance flashed over his face and he whipped out a dagger to ram into the heart of his target, ripping through clothes and breaking the crystal sitting on his skin. The guy was gone quicker than he could curse.

"What is it, Luhan?" he asked, getting to his feet to stretch himself some more. He could feel the tendons in his arm scolding him for the sudden strain.

_"How's your day?"_

"Really? You just ruined what could have been a fight," Zitao complained. Luhan just snorted.

_"No way, that dude was as slow as a snail and wasted all his skill points on strength."_

"Not like you're any better."

_"Excuse me? I'll come over there and kick your ass-"_

"Please try, littledeer85."

" _You suck. You want me to dig out your first usernames?"_

Former _swaggyT-a-o_ would rather not have Luhan know about his humble beginnings, so he kept his mouth shut.

" _For real though, wanna start something?"_

Zitao dusted off his clothes and thought about it. Playing with Luhan was fun, but he could use some training. Jongdae might think he was gaming to show off his physical skills, but in reality, it was his practice ground. Admittedly, the sensors and suit couldn't translate the exercises perfectly, meaning that it took quite long to get sore muscles, but ever since he'd parted ways with his trainers and fellow trainees at age 18, he'd been training himself online - and he was quite proud of the results. Recently, he'd been into an old fighting style called capoeira, and incorporating the movements into his own style was challenging and fun.

"Can we go for some sparring first? In half an hour? I'll warm up on the way."

_"Sure."_

Zitao took off towards their destined meeting point, choosing to go on foot just so he could take out whichever player he met on the way. Luhan wasn't nearly as strong as him, but this world was carefully balanced for a reason. People's physical abilities translated into the game, but there were also a handful of skill points, a fixed amount that players could use to boost themselves and pick a style that suited them. You could boost common factors like strength, speed, defense or put them into one of three supernatural categories. Luhan had done just that and was a fully-fledged telekinesis user on a rather high level. If Zitao felt like Luhan needed some cheering up, he liked to mention how it was risky to take him on both online and offline.

" _So, how **was** your day_?"

Zitao hummed, dodging a sudden attack from the side, holding the tiny fist of a pretty character, who all but hissed and attempted to kick at him instead. Zitao still wore the blue jacket in game, still signalized that he was up for fighting other players, but this one was no match either.

"Pretty good," he said, dodging the very quick, but weak attacks by someone who clearly wasn't very athletic in real life. "I spent a good chunk of it on a plane, but you know how it is."

Luhan didn't know, but to be very honest - every day that Zitao didn't call out for him could only have been a brutally boring day. They both had plenty of complaints about their current, miserably boring undercover life, but Zitao thought that Luhan deserved a day off once in a while, so even if it was tempting to bug Luhan while he was bored, he usually held off on that. It wasn’t like he was ever truly disconnected from him - they just didn't talk much on some days. Luhan needed to sleep more, anyway - he was lacking the fresh air and general, physical activity to cope with a lifestyle even half as taxing as Zitao's, even though none of them would ever admit it.

_"Chenchen still bugging the hell out of you?"_

Zitao huffed as he delivered the final blow to the ninja's heart crystal, watching her dissolve into blue dust. Jongdae once mentioned how their free usage of his name made him uncomfortable, which lead to Luhan coming up with all sorts of ridiculous nicknames. This one had stuck.

"Eh, it's alright. We really just stay out of each other's hair. He makes breakfast in the morning though, which is kinda neat."

_"I can't imagine you two eating together without hissing at each other."_

"Hey, it's not **that** bad."

Luhan made a show of not believing him, but Zitao meant it. Ever since Jongdae had started his job at Inyin industries three weeks ago, things had eased up between them. Jongdae wasn't following him around all day anymore, only accompanying him when his job allowed it, and most importantly: he had a _job_. Something to do, something that was of higher importance than Zitao's general recklessness 'that would get them killed one day'. These days, they ate breakfast together more often than not, exchanging relevant info in a curt, but not hostile way. It was nice like this. He might also make a really nice omelette and Zitao might be too easy to bribe into compliance with food.

" _Oh no, a challenger appeared!"_ Luhan exclaimed, ripping him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

_"He wears this super snobby blue jacket and looks like a tall red-headed elf, help me, I'm scared-"_

"Haha, very funny," Zitao commented, shrugging off the jacket to place it over a nearby tree trunk. Luhan was already skipping towards him - his character was modeled after himself (a luxury Zitao couldn't afford), with the fine difference that in this world, Luhan could walk and run and skip. He did plenty of that, all the time. Zitao never commented on it, because there was no reason for him to do that.

Luhan's second greeting consisted of tree branches flying at him, leaves whipping through the air. Zitao instinctively ducked out of their way, dodging the smallest one with the back of his arm.

"Yeah, just throw shit at me without a warning, why don't you?" he grumbled, and Luhan grinned brightly.

"Real life doesn't warn you either," he chirped, and Zitao couldn't keep a smile off his own face. It was always fun to actually see Luhan, who he'd usually only hear. He went into a comfortable position, muscles loose and both katana and dagger itching to be drawn.

"Alright, then. You said you got an upgrade? You finally able to throw boulders at me?" Zitao said, equal parts challenging and joking. Luhan's grin got a little smug, a look Zitao often imagined on him when they snuck up on targets in real life.

"I can try."

He still couldn't levitate boulders with the ease necessary to actually hit Zitao. But Luhan, who spent a lot of time in this world, even more than the average person, was a pretty vicious enemy who knew Zitao inside out.

Half an hour later, Zitao was drenched in sweat and could already feel the soreness in his muscles. He had no photoshoot the next day, which was for the best. Though if they caught him limping, they'd probably just assume he'd had a great night with a guy (or more).

(Zitao would love a great night with a guy (or more), or a woman, but his life had been too busy recently. It was alright though, his trusty porn collection kept him company, and was way more discreet than any actual person could be)

"Okay, okay, I need a break," Luhan announced, holding up his hand. "I'm starting to get a headache over here."

Zitao shot him a sceptic look because it wouldn't be the first fake out Luhan had thrown at him that day.

Now that he wasn't fully immersed anymore, he noticed a player sitting nearby, Zitao's blue jacket spread over their lap. The person looked youthful and androgynous, with smooth, white hair framing a porcelain-colored face and eyes rimmed with dark, but colorful makeup. Simple, but elegant jewelry was draped all over the person's hair and clothes. Not too unusual of a look, but unusual enough to tell him that he'd never seen this person before.

"You waiting for us to exert ourselves?" Zitao asked suspiciously. He didn't really want a reply, he just couldn't let the other silently watch them like a creep without acknowledging their presence.

"You're really good," the player said, voice light, but definitely male. Zitao shrugged.

"Practice," was all he said. "Practice, speed and strength."

It wasn't a lie as much as an insinuated lie. Zitao was strong in the virtual world, but his secret entailed that he never placed his skill points. He was functioning by nothing but his real life skills, keeping the virtual world a training ground rather than just a game. No one knew about that, though, naturally assuming he'd boosted himself.

"And good reaction time," the player added, neither overly enthusiastic or judging, a polite smile on the character's lips.

_Jongdae_.

Zitao blinked. For some reason, Jongdae popped up and refused to leave. The neutral demeanour was very unusual for this game, which was really like an alternate reality to most people. Just about anyone and their dogs had an account and it had long ago stopped being a fun play with identities (Zitao being an obvious exception). People just usually behaved like themselves, so meeting a role player had become a rarity. And the way he was talking sure suggested either roleplay, or...

"So, uh, you just wanna keep sitting there staring at us, or...?" Luhan asked awkwardly, trailing off with a useless question mark hanging in the air.

The guy looked at them, and Zitao had flashbacks from the way Jongdae looked at him during shootings. Then he blinked, averted his gaze and got to his feet, the jacket orderly placed back on the tree stump.

"No," he said, shaking his head lightly, gaze still averted. "Sorry for intruding-"

"You can play with us," Zitao offered before he knew it. Luhan shot him a surprised look - not because it was unusual for them to hang out with other players, but because the timing was just overall weird. Zitao didn't want to see him leave, though, wanted to know more about this player that might be Jongdae. Maybe he wanted to know more about Jongdae.

"I'm just a newbie, I don't think I’ve got anything to offer," the white-haired boy said apologetically, and it was Luhan's time to shrug.

"Eh, there's always something fun to do. What's your username? I'll invite you over."

He probably assumed Zitao wanted to show off to their new admirer, and just rolled with it.

Zitao didn't bother correcting him either, just watching the other's expression very carefully. That humble, flawless smile and submissive posture that was too perfect to be true.

"It's _Kat_."

"Just Kat?" Luhan asked, already sending out the invitation, no further ID needed with them being in each other's sight. Kat nodded towards Luhan, the character's eyes meeting Zitao's, but only briefly. Then he avoided his gaze again, and Zitao was growing pretty certain that he knew who he was looking at.  
  


 ⃝

 

"You seem starved."

"I didn't realize I was hungry until I ate," Jongdae admitted, taking a deep slurp of apple juice. Jongdae loved straws, and Tao loved hearing the many emotions Jongdae could convey through meaningful slurping, so they always had some colorful straws waiting for them in the kitchen. Tao elegantly rolled up some spaghetti with a fork, not being nearly as starved as Jongdae.

"How much did you eat today? You did eat, right?"

Jongdae didn't meet his eyes.

"Yeah, sure. I had, uh... two cereal bars for breakfast, and then someone brought donuts in today."

"U-huh. And that's it," Tao said blankly, and Jongdae sighed.

"I kinda forgot. I wasn't even hungry-"

"You're overworking yourself," Tao began, and when the other opened his mouth to protest, he simply kept talking, "You're overworking yourself and that's a fact - we both know it - but at least eat properly."

It wasn't a demand as much as a plea.

"How do you expect your body to keep up if it gets _less_ energy than other people’s?"

Jongdae caved immediately, looking painfully guilty.

"I _know_. You're right. It's just... I'll try. I'll try to take some breakfast to work tomorrow."

"Good," Tao said, finally leading his fork to his mouth. "I'll be watching you."

"Make yourself useful instead of just watching!" Jongdae jokingly accused him, and Tao played along, taking a playful jab at Jongdae's mediocre cooking skills, which prompted a reply aimed at his own questionable understanding of cooking. It was all fun and games, but while Jongdae was off to take a shower, Tao sighed to himself. He was worried about Jongdae.

Mental health was something that humans had always had trouble understanding, and would still have trouble with even in the future. In his past life, the general consensus was that a mental illness was exactly that - an illness, one that you could have in one life, but not in the next. But even in the future, people wouldn't be _too_ sure, would see the very vague correlation and admit that they just couldn't rule out the connection, that it depended on the illness, that some traits and people would always have a tendency for unstable mental health. That was a depressing thought for many, though, so people liked to tell themselves that in the _next_ life, things would be better. Tao was on the fence regarding that debate, but he firmly believed in this _tendency_ scientists spoke about. Jongdae was hard-working, almost overly considerate and tended to put himself second. Or third. It wouldn't be strange if the tendency for a bad turn was there. This time, though, Tao would be right by his side, helping him push that urge back down before it could get to him. Together, they'd fight that tendency until it went where it belonged - the past.  
  


❍

 

Zitao hadn't lied to Luhan about things being more relaxed between the two of them now that Jongdae was working at Inyin. Jongdae didn't bother nagging Zitao for his mere existence anymore and in turn, Zitao met him halfway when it came to the modeling jobs, often keeping him at a distance where he wasn't exposed to countless staff members wanting to see his work. At this point, he was probably doing work for Inyin on his tablet while Zitao exhausted himself in studios and on runways.

"You look rough," Zitao remarked at the breakfast table. Jongdae was emptily staring into his cereal bowl as if his mind needed to process the image further.

"I'm sorry it's not an omelette or anything fancy," Zitao chipped, but it was more pout and show than actual annoyance. He shifted the bowl of cut cucumber towards him.

"I'm sure you can take those to work as a snack, as well."

Jongdae looked up at this.

"What did you say?"

Zitao stared at him with the pursed lips of someone very well-accustomed to the sight of overworked people.

"I _said_ ," he began anew, fishing out a spoonful of cereals, "you look rough. You don't have to come along today, it's just an interview."

"No, it's fine," Jongdae protested, and seeing Zitao meaningfully putting cereal in his mouth reminded him of his own food. It wasn't even a real protest on his end (Zitao considered himself an expert on protests); it was more of a gentle reply.

"Working yourself down won't get you anywhere in that company either," Zitao stated, and Jongdae looked like Zitao was giving him a headache again.

"It will be fine," he said, slow and certain and clearly rejecting any further discussion. He crunched on his cereal, eyes lowered and ignoring the way Zitao stared at him.

"Yanno, cut-throat companies and businesses are often in favour of people with a backbone, who don't just take anything thrown at them," Zitao said.

"Hmhm."

Zitao lightly shook his head and reached for the cucumbers. _Suit yourself_ , he thought.

 

Jongdae was back to the politely smiling designer by the time they reached the magazine's sky-scraper of an office. He'd actually applied concealer to his ashen face in the car. It was the only time he'd put down his tablet. Zitao was a little frustrated and annoyed because obviously their mission brought plenty of work but none he could do. He hadn't done a single thing yet, and he wasn't going to bother asking like an impatient child. It was just frustrating. Staying put just wasn't like him.

As usual, they parted ways after quickly greeting the supervisor, with Zitao being whisked away to get dressed. The girl waiting for him by the clothes rail shot him an unsure look, but showed him the outfits, giving him information and a choice, complete with the polite suggestion that _this outfit would be preferred, that is, the pieces are really hot right now, but if you're not comfortable with it-_

"Hold on a second," Zitao said lifting his palm. He faintly heard someone arguing, talking in a raised voice. The girl grimaced, seemingly having an idea of what was going on. Promising he'd be back in a low voice, Zitao walked back, the confrontation getting more audible with every step.

"It was in the email I sent you, bold and underlined," a guy insisted, sounding all kinds of angry.

"I'm sorry," Jongdae replied, confirming Zitao's suspicions. He'd somewhat felt the tension in the air earlier, but couldn't put his finger on something that was left unsaid. Well, now plenty of words were being said.

"This is an important job, you know? Just because your patron is a big name doesn't mean you can get away with stuff like this-"

He peeked around a corner, seeing Jongdae's straight posture, slightly lowered head and a furious supervisor.

"I didn't do it on purpose. I'm very sorry," Jongdae repeated.

"If that's the case, then maybe you should rethink your job choice - if we were your employers, you'd be out of a job by now-"

"What's going on here exactly?" Zitao asked, approaching them with an icy smile. "Any problems?"

The expression of the supervisor twitched and stumbled, unsure of whether to go for the apologetic or angry route. He chose the middle way.

"I'm very sorry about this - your designer failed to make an h&m appointment, even though it was clearly stated in our email."

Oh. He was supposed to arrive here with his hair and makeup being done already. Well, that was unfortunate indeed - that he hadn't double-checked the email. He'd blindly trusted Jongdae, which was entirely on him. It was a sticky, stupid situation, because while Luhan liked to act as his manager, Zitao could easily go stretches of time without his assistance - and currently, Luhan was buried up to his nose in research about the Wu case. Jongdae was really just unfortunately caught in the middle, and had somewhat picked up on Zitao's schedule (seeing as he had access to the business emails, too); nowadays, he was so naturally herding Zitao from one appointment to the next that the people around them assumed he was his manager for the time being when really, he wasn't. Jongdae was busy enough on his own and the only one responsible for this was Zitao himself, but he couldn't admit that out loud. Admitting that he was his own manager would look very bad. He could, of course, apologize on Jongdae's behalf but there was no way in hell he would do that. Because that wasn't the point. The point was that this random nobody decided to put the blame on some newbie designer without making amends. And Jongdae? Jongdae just wore this apologetic mask, eyes lowered and fingers absently running along the edge of his tablet. It annoyed Zitao. Kinda made him mad, really.

"So what?" he snapped, "mistakes like this happen all the time - I can go and get it done right now, or are you too busy to delay the interview for a bit?"

The man immediately switched to the offense again, with his pride being attacked. People were so primitive, no matter the time.

"Well, we actually _are_ a very busy company, Mr. Huang," he began, but Zitao was downright pissed at this point, pissed that this random guy decided to assert his dominance after needlessly stomping all over Jongdae, who could be annoying, sure, but who was also infinitely more competent. Zitao had always refused to accept unfairness.

"Too busy to provide your models with hair and makeup?" he snapped, "I remember Venua always providing hair and makeup in the past - it's pretty much a given for a magazine your size, not to mention for someone they cooperate pretty regularly with. Did you not know about that, taking on this project? I've never seen you before, so I assume you're new to this?"

Around them, curious and not very subtle spectators gathered, and the supervisor's face went redder by the second. Zitao stepped forward, just enough to half hide Jongdae behind him.

"I can't believe you're making such a huge fuss about a minor slip up, the first slip up in a dozen collaborations-"

"I'm not," he started to backpedal, but it was way too late."I was just saying-"

"You were not _just saying_ , you were literally yelling at my designer, and I don't see how that's professional or warranted. Now we can either stop wasting everybody's time and get the hair and makeup done - quick and simple - or we can leave and reschedule," Zitao stated with finality. The supervisor looked equal parts angry and scared, confirming that he was indeed new to this. Not that Zitao didn't know that already.

"I- I can call someone up, but I can't guarantee they'll be-"

"Forget about that, don't you have any makeup here?" he asked, looking into a clueless, red face. "A comb? Anything?"

This time, at last, the supervisor actually looked at his team, or rather at the brave ones who had gathered around - people who didn't seem very sorry for him - and Zitao scoffed.

"Never mind," he said, lifting his own handbag. "I'll just do it myself. I'll let you know when I'm done."

He turned towards the staff members, trying to sound more composed.

"You got a mirror for me?"

"Of course," one of the staff members said with the tiniest voice, leading him off. Jongdae followed after them wordlessly. They were led into a small, deserted dressing room that he had ironically been in before, to get his hair and makeup done, and reassured the staff members that _it was fine, that he would actually do it himself, that he would prefer some privacy, that he'd hurry up_.

With a sigh, he reached into his handbag, took out a smaller bag and unzipped it to place every object on the table. Now he regretted not packing his fancy new kohl liner, the color-changing one. Still, he wouldn't be a professional if he left the house without basics.

"Should I call someone?"

Zitao blinked away from his own face, where he was applying foundation with a special sponge, and watched Jongdae through the mirror. He was standing behind him, not meeting his eyes. He'd never offered to do anything like this, anything manager-like.

Zitao huffed, being limited to subtle reactions while applying cream around his eye bags.

"No way. I can do this by myself, no big deal. They don't deserve anything fancy, anyway."

The anger was still there, pulsing like an agitated heart that needed time to calm down, but now that they were alone, it was starting to get better. Zitao knew himself and knew his temper. He'd be fine in the interview later. And maybe Jongdae could get some rest now.

"I'm sorry."

Zitao paused, with the brush half-way up to his face, to shoot him another look through the mirror. This time, Jongdae met his gaze, looking tired and disappointed in himself. And actually, genuinely sorry.

"What for?" Zitao asked. When Jongdae shrugged, he beat him to any self-deprecating nonsense he might have waiting on his tongue.

"Fuck them, man," he said heartily, and when Jongdae's expression remained dejected, he added, "look, you don't know about this, but not providing h&m is pretty low for such a huge company in the first place, and I don't know what's going on over at Inyin, but _I_ don't tolerate people yelling at someone they think is lower on the career ladder. People make mistakes, but being a dick about it is the bigger mistake in this business, where it's all about flexibility. Instead of whining, he should have quickly thought of a solution, like you would have done. Also, there will be no repercussions for either of us, so the slip-up is basically irrelevant."

Jongdae sighed. Zitao stared at him until Jongdae looked up again.

"I'm right," Zitao said, slow and firm. "Trust me on this. I know this business."

"Alright," Jongdae whispered, taking a seat on the sofa, and for a while, it was silent. He assumed Jongdae would take a much needed nap, but of course that wasn't the case.

"You’ve got a chip."

Zitao looked at his own arm, then into the mirror, where the vaguely blue spot was just barely visible.

"Yeah. You don't?" he asked conversationally, unsure of where this was going. Jongdae shook his head, which Zitao only barely saw as he shaded his brows.

"I'll get one. After this mission. It's part of my payment."

Zitao made an acknowledging sound. Jongdae seemed to just want to talk, driven by exhaustion.

"But maybe I won't take it."

At this, he lowered the brush to search his gaze, but Jongdae was staring into nothingness, leaning over the armrest of the couch.

"Why wouldn't you?"

"A chip makes me identifiable. I can't afford being identifiable," Jongdae murmured quietly. "I'm a blank sheet and any kind of color is unwelcome. But also... I thought that maybe it's better to let the burden of past memories behind. Maybe I'd rather have a fresh start in my next life, even though it's selfish."

Zitao had paused doing his makeup entirely in favour of observing Jongdae, who seemed on the verge of dozing off, but tried hard to stay awake and focused.

"Maybe my next life will turn out better."

"Your current life isn't over yet," Zitao argued calmly, and switched to a slightly darker eye shadow, dabbing the brush into it.

"I'll take my sweet time cause they suck and I want it to be perfect, so you can take a quick nap. I'll wake you up when I'm done."

"Yeah," Jongdae said distractedly, finally allowing his eyes to drop closed, "I will. Thank you."

"Hmhm," Zitao hummed, applying the powder on the outer area of his lid. When he was done with the eye shadow, he peeked over his shoulder to see Jongdae fast asleep.  
  


* * *

 

 

Kat didn't come to play with them that night. Luhan didn't mention it, but Zitao silently thought that it was for the better and that Jongdae definitely needed sleep. It was a nice chance to squeeze in more training for Zitao, which wasn't really an option with Kat around. It surprised Zitao that Luhan never mentioned the friendly but silent and clumsy player and his undeniable similarity to Jongdae. Not that he had much time to ponder that when Luhan was trying to push his nose into the dirt, quite literally. He pushed against the invisible power trying to hold him down by the neck, pushed hard until he changed the direction of force without warning, wriggling out of his grasp in a more sideways-approach, rolling over the ground and crashing into Luhan's legs. Before the other knew what was happening, he'd landed square on his butt with a yelp.

"And another win... for me," Zitao huffed out. They were both drenched in sweat, though only he would have to take a shower in real life after this. Using telekinesis was only hard on the head, really.

"It better be, or else we should switch jobs," Luhan huffed back, and with a shared groan, they sank into the grass, facing the digital sky as their breathing evened out. Zitao's forehead was almost touching Luhan's knee, and he nudged it with his nose, too lazy to move.

"Sorry for going for your legs," he said.

"Oh no, my poor digital legs can't take a hit. They'll crumble!" Luhan replied in exaggerated but breathy sarcasm. Zitao was too lazy to flick him for that, so he didn't.

"It's pretty late," he said instead.

"You got any schedules tomorrow?"

Zitao scrunched his brows together. He was hanging quite comfortably in his suit, but no matter how expensive the material, as soon as you stopped exercising and really felt yourself sticking to the straps as the sweat cooled your skin, it got gross.

"Nothing, I think. I'll probably hit the gym for a good old check up," he mused. "Have my trainer see whether I'm still balanced and shit. Do some hard exercises."

"Cool. I'll cheer you on eating pizza."

"Jerk."

"Only for you," Luhan yawned. Then he seemed to remember something.

"Right, so, uh. Don't freak out when you go offline in a bit - Jongdae's in your room."

That rang through the relaxation like a nail against a blackboard.

" _What_ ," Zitao didn't ask but demanded. A demand for an explanation.

"Don't freak out, don't- stay here, okay?"

They were still lying in virtual grass, but Luhan's voice didn't allow any protest, and Zitao trusted him. Also he was incredibly exhausted and lazy right now. So he waited.

"He came in earlier, I saw it on the monitors," he began, and Zitao could see his fingers tapping the grass without a clear rhythm. "I think he expected you to notice him? I don't know, he stood there for quite a while, before sitting in that armchair of yours. He's been sleeping for over an hour now."

Zitao had to gather his thoughts to decide which one had priority.

"First of all, that's kind of really creepy. Secondly, I keep forgetting that you're keeping tabs on me _all_ the time, and I'm not sure whether I'm thankful or crept out by that too."

"I would have said something if he had!" Luhan defended himself. "Or if you were in danger. But he just sat down and nodded off, so I figured it was fine."

The thought of someone watching him exercise without him knowing about it was pretty unwanted and uncomfortable, still, but this wasn't adding up and he wanted the full scope before judging.

"Why would he do that though? I can not think of a single reason."

Luhan actually sighed.

"I _might_ know," he said slowly, dragged out and apologetic the way he always got when he felt guilty over the perverse nature of his job. Or when he was keeping anything from him.

"Shoot," Zitao said strictly. Luhan sighed again.

"You see, I do have cameras in all the rooms, and I do keep tabs on Jongdae, too. It's my job, and I gotta make sure you're safe," he elaborated, but then forced himself not to get side-tracked. "And Jongdae... he's... sometimes, he doesn't really sleep. Like, I only notice because he keeps getting... antsy. Anxious. I don't know, you can just see that something is off, so naturally, it got my attention. But I didn't flat-out ask him, cause you know. _He_ didn't sign a contract to be stalked 24/7 and that’s kinda really private."

"You're a good person, Luhan," Zitao fell in, if only to interrupt the slew of backhanded defenses. "You're not abusing your power and you're not a voyeur. I'm sure he doesn't think you are."

Luhan exhaled noisily.

"Yeah. I know," he said, sounding secretly relieved, "but anyway, that happened occasionally, not that often, and he'd usually go for a walk or sit in the kitchen, preparing dinner or something."

Zitao had never noticed Jongdae going out for a walk and felt a bit bad about it.

"I dug into his records a bit more - because you never know whether he might be anxious cause he's secretly a traitor - and also I need to know who we're working with-"

"The point, Luhan," Zitao reminded him impatiently.

"Yes. I was getting to that. See, Jongdae has been working undercover for years and years. Ever since he was seventeen or something. This is only his third job, since he spent two years in the first one and 6 in the second."

"Jesus," Zitao cursed. "I refuse to be stuck with this mission for two years or more."

"Right?" Luhan agreed readily. "But the point is that as an undercover agent, you’ve got no life of your own. You get, like, fully immersed in this life you're faking and there's nothing outside of it. Not to mention that you're constantly in the dragon's lair and could be discovered and killed at any given moment. Jongdae doesn't even have any hobbies that would be unusual, not to mention partners or even family. Like... I don't know. I didn't dig for medical records but I do think this could kinda drive you a bit crazy at times."

Zitao hummed.

"It does sound miserable and ever since I met him I got a new-found appreciation for our job, that much is sure."

"Yeah..." Luhan trailed off.

It gave Zitao time to think, ignoring the cold sweat sticking his shirt to his back as he closed his eyes. If it was him, if he was in Jongdae's position, what would he feel? Loneliness, sure, but Zitao was also an inherently social person, and he didn't know whether the other shared that.

Now being a model and assassin meant that he had to be good at acting, too, not quite unlike Jongdae. Without bragging, he wasn't too bad at putting himself in someone else's shoes, expressing and emulating certain emotions. Now if he were in Jongdae's position, lying on Zitao's guest bed, staring into the blue-ish room that never got too dark with the streets outside and far below... yes, he'd be lonely for sure. But not just because of the absence of people, but because he'd be emulating a life, but not really living one. Where's your place in the world if you’ve got nothing to yourself? What's the point of everything?

Zitao met a barrier there because he couldn't possibly fathom why Jongdae even did it in the first place. Zitao traded his skills for his job - he modeled, acted, sniped, killed. He provided a service. Jongdae traded in his life. Sure, he probably also had some skills and could sneak around and whatnot, but the main service he was offering was his life, only to live in constant fear of being discovered, of being attacked out of the blue, of people coming for him.

_I'm all alone in a stranger's life and I have nothing on my own, and they might come for me, might break into the apartment right **now** -_

Zitao blinked. Too deep, he was slipping into this too deep. It was all speculation, too. It could be entirely different. It could be something mundane, too. He opened his eyes again, staring at the blazingly golden sky. Yes, it could just be nothing.

"Are you gonna kick him out?" Luhan asked, sounding a bit nervous about the whole thing. Zitao shrugged, even though Luhan couldn't see it.

"If he's so desperate to seek the company of someone he doesn't even particularly like, who am I to kick him out? He hasn’t done anything," Zitao simply said. Again, Luhan was relieved.

 

By the time the game was switched off and Zitao had taken a shower, Jongdae was still fast asleep - not surprising, considering how beaten he'd looked that day. Zitao considered rousing him, but then decided to drape a blanket over his narrow frame and sleep on the couch next to him. Whatever the reason for Jongdae’s presence may be, there was simply no reason to reject him.

 

The next day, Jongdae was gone before his alarm went off, frying another omelette in the kitchen, as it was becoming a tradition. He didn't mention the previous night, so Zitao didn't either.  
  


 ⃝

 

Jongdae looked good in a suit. He also looked good in jeans, in a ratty old shirt or nothing, but in a suit? Even the most oblivious and tasteless people couldn't deny how suave he looked in his sleek, black suit. Sure, people tended to look Tao's way more often, if only for his height and the pretty vibrant, wine-red suit he was wearing (because dress codes were meant to be interpreted, not just followed), but Tao only had eyes for Jongdae and his bright smile. In a sea of polite strangers all working for the same company, Jongdae had finally found a few colleagues of his and was currently chatting with them. Tao wasn't really listening, as he had taken the time to have a good look around, and now there was no way to enter the conversation. That was okay though. Tao was content standing there, a polite smile lingering on his lips as he looked around, eyes landing back on Jongdae more often than not. He could tell by the behaviour of his co-workers that they admired him, and that made him happy. Jongdae had worked relentlessly over the past months, ever since he was employed, really. Seeing hard work being rightfully rewarded was just the most satisfying thing, especially if it happened to a loved one. He still hoped that his workload would lessen a bit in the future. Not all his memories from the past life were crystal clear, but he did remember Jongdae being a workaholic.

He was ripped out of his thoughts by the sound of Jongdae's laugh, always a bit too loud, because it just wasn't to be contained, that's not how he was. He was ducking his head now, and Tao didn't have to listen to know that he was being complimented. He knew all of Jongdae's little habits. From nervous to happy to upset - Tao could always tell what was going on without asking. He just knew.  
  


❍

 

In his head, Zitao already referred to Kat as Jongdae, but it took a while until he was absolutely certain. It's not like he wasn't observant because he was - that was part of the job, after all. But observing Jongdae didn't give him anything to work with, at first. Around him, Jongdae was usually neutral, competent and effective, but not really personal. Most people displayed their unique habits and quirks when they were relaxed or very nervous. And after a short period of time, Kat, the white-haired elven boy, turned out to be very relaxed around them. It made Zitao determined to find out what Jongdae was like when he was relaxed.

He might be way too invested in uncovering this, despite it being so menial. Zitao put the blame on having to sit still for so long. He was so _bored_.

But anyway, observing Jongdae made him realize that they didn't spend as much time around each other as he'd initially thought. There were the mornings, sure, and maybe they sat down for some food in the evening, too, but that wasn't a given. Jongdae worked insane shifts most of the time, and when he accompanied Zitao to a modelling event instead, he was all charming and neutral. Zitao didn't trust anything he saw during those events. Jongdae was too good of an actor for that.

But as the days passed by, he figured that mornings were his best bet on catching a glimpse at casual Jongdae, who wasn't much of a morning person. To be fair, Zitao was even less of a morning person, but he usually got up around at least an hour before Jongdae, to go through his fitness and skincare routine. Years of drilling this rhythm into his head had helped, too.

So all it took was this particular little handicap... and a few words. Zitao started to chat with Jongdae, harmless small talk or inquisitions about his work or hobbies. While Jongdae was obviously suspicious at first, he seemed to chalk it up to Zitao just being weird and bored after a while (which was partially true). He also lamented Zitao having too much excess energy for his lifestyle. Zitao didn't comment on it when in reality, he knew all-too well that Jongdae didn't go straight to bed, either, after a long day.

Kat was only online late at night - after Jongdae had gotten home. He was never online before that. That was the first thing Zitao noticed. Kat was also rather new to the virtual world, with a pretty old account he claimed to have never really used before.

Kat was friendly, calm, polite, and he had a habit of tilting his head to the right when he was paying attention to someone - just like Jongdae. He wasn't really one for fights and achievements, and rather just enjoyed the world for what it was. When they encouraged him to take on an enemy by himself, he'd press his lips together, just like Jongdae would, when he was staring at his tablet, pushing around complex parameters.

And finally, when they'd compliment him on a job well done, he'd lower his head a little, to hide his smile. That one was hard for Zitao to see in real life, but he made it happen when he complimented him in public, during one of their jobs, for his diligent work (which was, of course, for Inyin and nothing to cater to Zitao's extraordinary fashion sense). Jongdae really did lower his head. He got actually _shy_ when complimented. For some reason, Zitao hadn't expected that, and it threw him off way more than it should. It made Jongdae less of a reassured, cocky professional like him, and more of a... Zitao didn't know what it made him. He just knew that it changed things, for some reason.

What it did not change was the fact that the sweet and humble elf accompanying them online was Jongdae. There was no doubt about it. When Zitao once remarked that he knew very well that Jongdae had an account as well, the other had denied it with that perfect poker face of his. He might not admit it, he might be impeccable at lying, but he didn't fool Zitao.

 

 ⃝

 

"What would you rather do? Never eat the same thing again or eat the same thing for the rest of your life?"

"First one, totally. Who would even pick the latter?" Jongdae asked from the other end of the sofa, his legs sprawled all over Tao's lap.

A few taps and a thoughtful hum later, Tao replied, "20% of the entire population, actually."

"All liars," Jongdae brushed him off, absently staring at the TV. "Or dumb people. You could just change your favourite dish slightly and then you don't have to miss any dish ever."

"True," Tao agreed, swiping across the screen. "Okay. Would you rather have three kids and no money, or no kids with three million dollars?"

Jongdae snorted, and Zitao couldn't keep his grin to himself, either.

"You can transfer the money any time. I wanna move to the Bahamas."

"Same. World agrees, but barely so, which is shocking. Next..."

Tao never seemed to run out of random things to do online when they were bored. Today, he was bombarding Jongdae with a slew of questions to compare his answers to the ones of others.

"Would you rather have a Lamborghini in your garage or a bookcase with 9000 books and infinite knowledge?"

"Those are all way too easy," Jongdae complained. "The question should be 'Would you rather have that Lambo or the books?' Infinite knowledge trumps basically everything. With infinite knowledge, you're smart enough to get your hands on a Lamborghini in no time, anyway."

"Yeah," Tao said noncommittally, and Jongdae dug his heel into his thigh in the laziest excuse for a punch.

"You would have picked the Lambo."

"I mean, now that you put it like that, it makes more sense-" Tao began, but cut himself off as he saw the next question.

"What? What is it? Is it something disgusting?" Jongdae asked, halfheartedly stretching towards Tao to see the screen - and then flopping back down immediately after, because it was too much work, after all.

"If you were reborn in a new life, would you rather be alive in the past or future?"

At this, Jongdae hummed.

"Future, definitely."

Tao looked at him, a bit of an unreadable gaze that Jongdae didn't notice as he was staring at the ceiling, contemplating a hypothetical, second life.

"Like, for one, the past is full of misery and burning people who differ from the norm. Or who people thought looked funny. No thank you, I'd rather not. Then again, in the future we might all die a gruesome death by the long term effects of atomic war. That would definitely suck as well. But there's the chance of ending up in a super advanced, fancy future, right?"

He looked at Tao with a kind of unbothered happiness that was amazing to Tao.

"Imagine all the crazy technology. I bet I could also find you super easily, because everything is recorded and stuff."

"You'd go and search for me?" Tao asked, and Jongdae didn't miss a beat.

"Of course! Even if just to kick your butt for not looking for me first!"

"Maybe I won't remember," Tao said, but Jongdae just pouted.

"Excuses, nothing but excuses. Even if you don't remember, you could still find me. Try a little harder, okay?"

He was joking, it was all a joke, but Tao felt so overwhelmed that he had to place his phone aside and tackle Jongdae into a firm hug that resulted in a play fight.

Jongdae was right. He didn't remember, but when Tao had been transferred to his class years ago, with a head full of memories he didn't trust yet, it had been Jongdae who had made the first move. It had been Jongdae who had approached him, who had found him.  
  


❍

 

" _You think Kat will come online later or nah_?"

Zitao kept flipping through the menu, rows and rows of weak swords flying by.

"Probably. Jongdae will be home soon."

" _Huh? So_?"

Zitao rolled his eyes and concentrated on putting exasperation into his thoughts, strong enough to carry over to Luhan despite him not speaking out loud and letting the game convey everything.

"Well, Jongdae is obviously Kat. How have you not noticed yet?"

Luhan made a dragged out, doubtful noise that was all kinds of unaesthetic.

" _Never even considered that. Chenchen is not the type to play games, that's pretty obvious._ "

"What makes it so obvious?"

Zitao closed the menu and ventured through the colorful, virtual city, aiming for another branch of stores he might find interesting stuff in. Luhan still liked to use Jongdae's nickname despite there being no actual danger of being discovered in game. Their conversation was entirely private and the game's security was tight - even though Luhan liked to pretend that he could break into the game no problem, if only he put his mind to it. There really was no use challenging him on that, though - Zitao would prefer if Luhan _didn't_ break the game just for fun.

"Have you never noticed? He talks like Jongdae, thinks like Jongdae and he's only online when Jongdae is free."

" _Is he? I... never really noticed_."

Zitao could practically hear Luhan flipping through protocols, interest piqued.

"He also does this thing, where he tilts his head when he's listening to you," Zitao added, and Luhan hummed smugly.

" _I see you two are getting along better than before, huh? Is he acting all cute for you?"_

Zitao snorted. "No, but that's how he is around staff people. And I don't think it's an act," he added and instantly regretted it. Luckily, Luhan was too distracted to further tease him.

" _You're right though, the times align fairly well, as far as I can tell. Weird_."

"Right? Why else would he have approached us like that? I bet he was trying to keep track of what I'm doing online and whether it endangers our job."

Luhan laughed, the unattractive sound crackling in his ears.

" _You think so? That would definitely be him- oh, look. Speak of the devil_."

Zitao checked his contact list only to find Kat being shown as 'active', as opposed to the usual 'online'. Many people were online and sort of available, but only moving around in game marked them as actually active.

" _And... hah! He's totally on his laptop right now_ ," Luhan proudly exclaimed. " _I can't believe it, you're right! This is hilarious. Let's hit him up_ ," Luhan proposed eagerly, and Zitao sighed.

"Don't embarrass me now, okay?"

" _By telling him how closely you've been watching his body language? Suuure_."

"I mean it, Luhan!"

" _Alright, alright_!" the other amended in exasperation. " _You gotta do something about that fragile ego, man_."

"My ego is **not** fragile," Zitao argued, as Kat took the invitation and asked about a meeting point.

" _Your ego is like an egg. Incredibly hard and yet incredibly fragile if ya know how to tap it_."

Zitao was pretty sure Luhan was the only one able to rile him up if he wanted to, and having Luhan know that was kind of terrifying.

The painted tiles beneath his feet vanished to make room for grass. And two other pairs of feet.

"Hey guys," Kat greeted them, soft as ever, and Zitao looked up to wave at him and Luhan. Teleporting sometimes made him dizzy. Kat didn't seem to have the same reservations - sometimes, he was surprisingly sturdy beneath the overall fragile, pacifistic character he was playing.

"Yo," Luhan greeted him loudly, going on for a high five Kat nearly missed. It looked almost comical, seeing such a subdued, realistic character high five an obviously fantasy-inspired one. Zitao wondered what might have inspired Jongdae to go for such a soft, elven look.

"How are you doing today?" Kat asked, clasping his hands together. Zitao should just debunk him and make him admit his real identity (though Jongdae would never admit it in public) - but with the charade still intact, he could be around Jongdae and learn about him in a way that wouldn't be possible otherwise.

"Ah, you know, the usual," Luhan waved him off, and his suspicious stare was so obvious Zitao wanted to facepalm. "All work and no play, right? Until we do get to play."

Kat laughed, not addressing the awkward use of plural, and Zitao told Luhan off in their private chat.

'You're a horrible actor and obvious as fuck,' he texted, to which Luhan only replied with " _But I want to know!_ "

"Sooo, Kat!" Luhan began, making it sound like the assault it was, and there was certainly insecurity flashing over the elf's face.

"Yeah?"

"What did you have for breakfast?"

Unsure, Kat looked towards Zitao, as if asking whether he was missing something happening between the lines.

"An omelette, actually. Did I pass the test or something...?"

_"_ A-HA _."_

'Luhan, please. This is the proof you need? Really, now?' Zitao asked in private, but out loud he said, "he's just a weirdo, don't mind him."

Kat nodded unsurely, but his smile seemed a bit more stilted than before.

'Can you not drive him away, please?' Zitao asked, and gained himself another " _A-HA_ ," this time even smugger.

" _So this is what it's about, I see_ -"

"Luhan, please!"

Kat stared at him, and Zitao felt like an idiot for saying it out loud on accident.

"I know it's a little weird, but I saw it on a TV show as a kid, so... I kinda picked up on it," Kat all but _defended_ himself for his choice of breakfast, laughing nervously. "Is there an unwritten rule on what's acceptable to eat and what isn't?"

"No, omelettes are great and I love them," Zitao took over, calling up a few menus to browse for easy quests they could take on. "Especially those with vegetables."

Jongdae, who had never even once made two omelettes that were the exact same, hummed.

"Yeah, those are nice! There's so many options for omelettes, right?"

Zitao looked past Luhan's weirdly judgemental grimace and at the elf.

"Yeah. Which is your favourite?"

Jongdae actually avoided eye contact and rubbed his neck.

"Ah, I don't know. I like many. Mushrooms are nice though."

Zitao pretended like he hadn't eaten a mushroom omelette made by Jongdae just recently.

"They're good. Anyway, you up for some quests- Kat?"

He'd almost called him Jongdae. He had to be careful. Kat, he chanted in his mind. Kat, Kat, Kat. Not Jongdae.

Because this was fascinating and he wouldn't want to drive Jongdae away.

 

The next morning, Jongdae yawned, one hand holding the spatula as he stirred the egg in the pan. There were little mushrooms sprinkled on top. Zitao didn't comment on it.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 ⃝

 

"In my past life, I was a stone."

It came out of nowhere and with the rare, deadpan humor Jongdae would sometimes surprise him with. Tao snorted, almost spitting all over their future dinner.

"Can you control the spitting, Mr. Rapper?" Jongdae whined, but Tao just looked at him from where he was cutting the carrots into very unshapely little things.

"Why a stone?"

"I was getting to that!" Jongdae replied with a huff, cutting Tao's already cut carrots a little finer before tossing them into the pot.

"Today, on break, they were talking about a trashy quiz they took in a magazine, about their past life, and it said I was a stone. Which was kinda disappointing, _but_ -" Jongdae explained, raising his voice to prevent Tao from interrupting, "also I must have been a pretty good stone, for me to be reborn as a human, so they can't compare."

"What do you mean?" Tao asked, still highly amused.

"Well, they say that if you lead a good life, you get reborn in a better position than before, right?"

"And you think humans are just one step away from stones?"

Jongdae thought about that for two seconds, before settling on a generous "Yeap".

"How can you even be a good stone? How can you be a bad stone?" Tao asked next, and Jongdae rolled his eyes.

"By crumbling easily, what do I know? I bet you were a bratty little cat in your past life!"

Tao took the invitation to snuggle up and be a general nuisance.  


Sometimes, he wished that Jongdae would remember. Sometimes, the urge to tell him was so strong that Tao had to leave the room and busy himself with anything that might distract him. Sometimes, he looked at the blank spot on the inside of his right arm, at the tiny little square he hadn't tattooed over. He remembered the blue chip so clearly, and yet his skin was clean.

There had been many days where Tao had contemplated being mentally unstable and just hallucinating about a past life happening in the future, where he was going to be a hitman. It sure sounded insane. But on other days, he was just so certain. To be very honest, Jongdae was the sole reason he hadn't just seen a doctor to get checked. He had never experienced anything as telling of his past life as Jongdae. Jongdae, whom he met and immediately _knew_ , knew everything about him, and his memories aligned perfectly.

It was almost ironic how Jongdae had yet again helped him, this time without even realizing it.

As he nuzzled into Jongdae's neck, purposefully tickling him with the tips of his hair brushing against sensitive skin, Tao thought that maybe deep down, Jongdae's heart knew as well. After all, a steady, sure stone and a risk-taking cat? Not too bad of a guess.

Jongdae squirmed away, batted at him and complained with a smile that made Tao smile, too.

It was alright if he didn't remember.

This carefree kind of life suited Jongdae more, anyway.

 

❍

 

"Hey. I got news."

Zitao hummed in question, only barely looking up from his tablet where he was ordering new sensors for the VR set. Two containers of fast food noisily hit the kitchen table, followed by two forks.

"News regarding the mission," Jongdae elaborated, and now he had Zitao's attention. He put down the tablet at once and watched Jongdae sit down and open the first paper bag.

"Sorry, just- I need to eat something," he apologized, and Zitao shrugged. He waited this long, he could wait another minute. Though Jongdae could have saved the teasing for when he was ready to actually spill the information.

When he noticed Zitao staring, Jongdae nodded at the second paper bag.

"It's just a salad, won't kill your model figure."

Zitao shot him a _look_ , but humored him by unpacking what turned out to be a salad indeed... with chicken, egg, a nice sauce and other glorious things he was definitely not supposed to eat right now.

"Chicken is alright, isn't it?" Jongdae asked, already stuffing his mouth with rice and meat.

" _Nothing's_ alright at this hour," Zitao retorted, reaching for the second fork on the table.

"So I mentioned getting closer to the handymen, right?" Jongdae changed the topic again, but it was hard to give Zitao whiplash. He'd have to try harder.

"You didn't, but cool?" he asked, stabbing a few juicy cabbage leaves.

"Oh. Okay, sorry, I guess I wanted to wait 'til I had actual info," Jongdae stated in between bites of food that looked really greasy and horrible. Zitao wondered how Jongdae managed to not put on weight.

"So I've only seen Wu in passing, but I kinda run across Kim Minseok and Zhang Yixing occasionally. And by now I am convinced that our mission information is wrong."

Zitao grimaced. "Wrong in a 'we want you to get killed in there'-way?"

Jongdae shook his head.

"They just didn't know better and fell for their pretense. They told us that Zhang Yixing is in charge of taking people out while his lover Kim Minseok is in charge of protection. Remember that?"

Zitao nodded, fishing out a piece of egg to go with the tomato.

"Well, that's all bullshit," Jongdae stated straightforwardly. He'd never heard Jongdae curse this casually before.

"Minseok and Wu are not lovers. Definitely not. However, he and Zhang might be. I kinda suspect that."

"Why does it matter which ones fuck behind closed doors?" Zitao asked, but Jongdae wasn't letting himself be put down that easily.

"Because it means that we have been dealt wrong information, and I'm assuming that was not on purpose. Meaning that we're completely blind in this mission and they're ahead of us. I do not think Minseok is the sole person able to handle the security system, either. I feel like Zhang might be able to do it, too. That means that we gotta move even more carefully."

Manicured nails tapped against the kitchen table, the salad forgotten for now.

"So basically instead of new info, our info is that we have no info," Zitao stated, the disappointment sparking up. Not directed at Jongdae in particular. Just general disappointment.

"Yeah, for now. But I have a good feeling about this. I just need more time," Jongdae said. Zitao wasn't convinced.

"I think that this is a sign that we should speed up the process and get the hell out of there," he admitted. He knew danger when it was breathing down his neck - but maybe Jongdae was too used to that state of existence.

"If we do anything stupid now, it might be over," Jongdae argued, but he seemed hesitant this time. There was something he wasn't telling him.

"What is it?" Zitao asked suspiciously, and Jongdae seemed to fight his internal conflict for some more, before giving in.

"Tomorrow afternoon would be a good chance," he admitted.

"A good chance for what?" Zitao immediately asked, too impatient to wait for Jongdae to spill the information eventually.

Jongdae lowered his fork to actually look at him, the food forgotten.

"The building's gonna be empty, except for the security bots. Zhang and Kim are both expected to accompany Wu to some official dinner, and the company's closed that day. I was just thinking that **if** one wanted to get in there, that would be the day, _but_ -"

He raised his voice towards the end, determined to speak over Zitao's attempts at interruption.

"But it's way too early and we don't have enough information yet."

Zitao stared at him for a second. A few seconds. Then he tapped against his ear piece twice, before drawing a circle to put it on speakers.

"Good luck justifying that to _him_ ," he said.

_"You're saying we're just letting a perfect opportunity go?! Come the hell on, Jongdae."_

"Luhan, please. It's way too early and I obtained close to no information on the building-"

_"Are you saying I'm not getting in there, because I'm so getting in there."_

Zitao popped his lips, and dug into his salad demonstratively.

"You know nothing about the building and it's one of the most secured we know of," Jongdae enunciated slowly, earnestly, only for his choice of tone to be mirrored by Luhan. An annoying thing he did when he got excited. Maybe he got that from Zitao, they couldn't remember who started it at this point.

"I have gotten in and out of more impressive buildings, and on a whim at that."

"How often did you set off the alarms?" Jongdae asked. Luhan had the decency to miss a beat.

_"Occasionally. But that happens in the spur of the moment. We got plenty of time tomorrow. Seriously, Just get me close to the building so I can start taking notes and at least think of a plan on how to get into it. My lack of info won't change on its own, unless you develop some super senses in the next few weeks."_

Jongdae hesitated and looked overall unhappy.

_"We'll just take a look. Tao and I will go without you, too, if that's what's worrying you."_

Jongdae stared at Zitao, looking almost scandalized at how easily Luhan was making decisions for him. Zitao only shrugged with a look clearly saying 'What am I to do?'.

Jongdae's shoulders sacked, as if all appetite for his food was gone for good as he realized something.

"You're both equally awful. I thought it was just him, but _no_ ," he stated blankly.

Zitao didn't grin, not at all. Or maybe he did, but that was because his brain and Luhan were already thinking of preparations for the next day, and he was distracted by that.

 

 ⃝

  
"Jongdae? Everything alright?"

Jongdae hummed and zoomed past Tao without doing as much as looking at him, disappearing into the bathroom. Tao sighed. It was already past ten, and he couldn't remember the last time Jongdae had been home around a realistic dinner time. He just wished Jongdae would come up to him instead of hiding away like he did now. His voice had been weak, the way it got when you forced something out and forced that something to not be a sob.

Tao stared at the bathroom door, hearing the deep, forcefully even breaths Jongdae took.

He was about to speak up when the door opened, and a red-faced Jongdae looked at him, misery from mussed up head to toe.

"I think I need-" he began, stopped, stared at the floor with those same, even breaths, before suddenly turning around and hurrying to the toilet to throw up. Tao was by his side in an instant, even if the sound of retching was by far the worst sound in the world. It kept going, ugly, choked noises echoing off the walls. Tao firmly rubbed his shoulder and upper arm while tugging at Jongdae's loose pullover just enough to keep it out of the mess.

When it finally stopped, Jongdae inhaled like he was drowning.

They sat there for a while, on the cold, uncomfortable tiles. Tao didn't dare move him until Jongdae gave him a sign. The sign came in form of sobs, very small and choked ones, and in his shoulders slumping.

"I think... I need a break," he half-whispered, and with a sympathetic expression, Tao turned him around to check his face and temperature. No fever. If anything, he was rather cold.

"And you'll get it," Tao murmured, gingerly tugging the pullover over his head and unbuttoning the shirt he'd been wearing below. Jongdae helped, starting from the bottom, but with his shaky fingers, he didn't get much done. That was alright though. By the time his upper body was bare, Tao had wetted a washing cloth to clean him up and while Jongdae washed out his mouth for what felt like an eternity, Tao prepared the bed, fluffing up the cushions a little and getting him plenty of water.

"What if the doctor writes stress as a reason on my sickness certificate?"

Tao looked over at the door, where a slightly shivering Jongdae stood, his real worry spoken out aloud. Stress meant impending burnout, which meant that Jongdae was too fragile for his current workload, which, in turn might get him laid off or end his career early. There was no use in telling him that this was nonsense, or that he was worth more than his job. Instead, Tao said "We'll come up with something else. Your doctor is pretty generous, after all."

"Okay," Jongdae whispered, climbing into bed, slowly, as to not further upset his stomach.

"Just take a good, long rest, and call in sick for now. Maybe you'll be back up to full health in no time," Tao reassured him. Jongdae only hummed, but squeezed his hand tightly before letting go.

Tao pecked his salty forehead before leaving him alone.

It was getting worse these days. Jongdae hated to admit weakness, to really call for help because he couldn't make it any further on his own. But when he did, Tao at least finally got the green light to take over and _help_. For now, it may only be reassurance that Jongdae needed. But if he ever needed more than that, Tao would always be ready to give whatever he could, with no regards to anything or anyone else.  


❍

 

_"Can you tilt to the right a bit? Just a bit- awesome."_

This was clearly less adventurous than Jongdae had anticipated, but he still looked stiff and nervous. Despite them doing nothing but sit between a row of bushes and a low wall.

"Getting bored over there?" Zitao asked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "I told you to stay home."

Jongdae crossed his arms further and shot him an angry look - all that was missing was a hushing sound. It was a little hilarious.

"Calm down, there's no one here. If Luhan says it's safe, then it is."

Zitao readjusted his posture a bit, making himself comfy against the dusty but polished stone wall. Good thing his suit wouldn't catch the dust, or else he'd be just as comfy as Jongdae currently was.

There really wasn't anything going on right now, with them lurking around close to the building and perfectly exploiting a blind spot Luhan claimed to be there. The faint smell of something akin to disinfectant filled the air - they had sprayed it all over Jongdae to obscure the identification trail every employee had. Having him pop up on the security radar, in some bushes nonetheless, would have been pretty bad. No alarm had been set off so far though, and with the spray lasting for 5 hours at least, it would stay like that for another while.

Zitao was used to this. Breaking into a tough security system required time, and Luhan always claimed he was being _really fast already, you're the one who dies in there if you rush me so go on, please continue._

"Will we be back in time for the interview?" Jongdae asked quietly, and Zitao shrugged.

"We gotta. I'm pretty sure Luhan can take a good chunk of work with him-"

" _Oh **shit** , shit-"_

They both tensed up, fight or flight mode naturally kicking in.

" _oh- never mind. All good_."

They both exhaled, Jongdae in relief, Zitao in annoyance.

"Seriously, Luhan."

" _This isn't easy, okay?_ " he whined in response. " _If this security system was an animal, it'd be a snake. A pit of snakes, to be exact. And I'm like, trying to convince them I'm one of them. And then convince them they aren't snakes. Basically, I gotta convert them to dadaism._ "

"Less analogies, more actual hacking," Zitao absently said, throwing a worried look at what could only be described as misery in human form right next to him. Jongdae looked so on edge that Zitao had to label him as an unpredictable factor in his head. If push came to shove - for whatever reason - he had no idea how Jongdae would react. And that was bad.

"So, you got a secret wife hidden somewhere?" he asked, a little astounded at just _how_ random the question was. It threw Jongdae off balance at least, and he looked at him strangely.

"Why are you asking?" he asked suspiciously, and Zitao shrugged.

"You don't seem like the type to endanger a partner for a mission."

A flighty, self-deprecating smile appeared on Jongdae's face.

"Who would be? Don't act like you are. I never heard of as much as a casual hook up from you."

"That's cause I choose my hotties wisely," Zitao replied easily, watching the hesitant spark in Jongdae's eyes. Maybe he could learn to read him, after all.

"A-ha, there is someone."

"I didn't say that," Jongdae defended himself with a perfect poker face. He was getting more focused again. Good.

"You didn't, but there is, right? How does she cope with a person as ordinary as you?" Zitao joked, though he had the decency to feel a pang of guilt. By now, he knew that Jongdae wasn't completely ordinary. He sure had a character and everything, it was just a little harder to spot and grasp.

"She's doing _just_ fine," Jongdae began, before back-pedalling, "-because we're not together. At all. And we won't ever be."

Zitao hummed meaningfully, and for some reason, it prompted Jongdae to elaborate. Maybe he was just that annoyed by now, or tired of Zitao. Or lonely.

"She was the one approaching me in the first place," he said, staring at the ground, where a stray ant crawled towards a leaf. "I wouldn't have done anything."

He exhaled. Relaxed but vulnerable.

"Maybe we could go for a cup of coffee or something, but what use would that be? I wouldn’t be able to go any further, anyway. I'm not that much of a masochist."

Something told him that Jongdae was not talking about sex, that he was probably more of a romantic, and Zitao had a huge soft spot for romance, himself, so he could hardly blame him.

"I mean-" he began, only to be cut off by Luhan.

_"Can we get a little closer? I think I'm getting somewhere."_

Jongdae seemed relieved about the reminder, and Zitao wasn't going to push him.

"Sure, tell me how you want me to move."

" _I'm marking it on the map_."

They made their way around the wall, moving in an unnatural zig zag fashion over until they stood directly at the building. Zitao led them into a nook in the stone, leading to a door that looked very unused. At least they weren't out in the open anymore. Inyin's headquarters were a picture book example of fancy design work with plenty of square-cut pillars that Zitao's ignorant self could only call blocks. The whole structure was full of nooks and crannies, making it perfect to both sneak up on someone and be snuck on _by_ someone. Still, Zitao liked it, and the three-dimensional map told them that they were alone in a far radius. The next living person was the singular dot in the surveillance room far away and above them.

"You know," Zitao said, leaning against the cool stone like it was just a random alleyway, "you should give it a shot, anyway."

"Huh?" Jongdae asked distractedly, peeking around the area.

"The girl," Zitao elaborated. "You should go on a date with her."

Jongdae was looking at him now, clearly unconvinced, but wishing he was convinced.

"Sure, the relationship might end because of your job. Maybe it won't even go anywhere. You'll never know until you try though. Job or not, you're allowed to live a little, too. No one can be forced to live a life in loneliness."

To his surprise, Jongdae didn't deny being lonely. He only sighed.

"Maybe you're right. Though I should probably not take advice from you..."

"What's that supposed to mean, huh?" Zitao began, when Luhan piped up again.

" _Incoming people, there's two people coming your way!"_

Jongdae froze, and Zitao went from joking to high alert in a single second, pressing Jongdae into a wall, the one promising the incoming strangers wouldn't see them. He saw them on the map, could hear their voices in the distance. The surveillance guy should switch shifts in three hours at the earliest, and nobody should be wandering around right now-

" _It's Kim Minseok and Park, from the Korean department_ ," Luhan groaned, and Zitao internally cursed. He had no idea what this Minseok guy was capable of, and Jongdae was tensing up even more under him. If he made an unsuspecting noise now, it would be over.

" _I'm trying to open the door, but I can't, not without setting off the alarm-_ "

'Then don't. Not yet,' Zitao replied in his mind, shifting as he looked for the best possible hiding spot. The dots were coming closer but weren't in hearing range yet. They still had time.

Wordlessly, he tugged Jongdae over to one of the stylistic blocks in the corner, around the height of his throat. Lifting Jongdae was easy - the guy was suspiciously light - but having him make no noise while climbing up was a bigger worry. Jongdae tried his best, but he was slow. While he was still clambering up, Zitao had already climbed up the platform by himself, completely soundless.

If anyone were to enter the alleyway, they might not see them, not if they were medium height, which Minseok was. The door was right beside them, though, so he slowly pressed Jongdae into the corner, gently pushing him onto his knees. Many people weren't comfortable balancing on their heels for long, and he wasn't going to take the risk with Jongdae.

"I know, I know. Technically, we can force them to, but that would only lower the morale."

Jongdae held his breath. Not good. He was almost too close for Zitao to communicate clearly, but with his hand, he gestured for him to keep breathing evenly. It was almost impossible to hear someone's breathing outside, in the middle of the day, but a hitched breath was still the last thing they needed right now. Unluckily for them, Minseok seemed to have paused right in the entrance to the tiny alley, calmly talking to the employee.

"I would like to have an overview of who works how much. I know we can't pay every single minute of overtime, but I want them to orderly check in and out, anyway. I don't want to encourage anyone messing around with the system to sneak in more working hours. The rules need to be loosened up a bit."

What a pity, it's not even relevant information, a tiny part of Zitao thought, while his main focus laid on not making a sound as he pulled out his gun. If they saw them, there was no choice. He felt Jongdae's breath against his collarbone, felt it pick up at the realization that there might be a gun exchange. He adjusted his posture ever so slightly, angled himself so Jongdae had more room to breathe while cutting off his line of sight of the alleyway. They were still pressed together, he was still shielding him, and now he also placed his free left hand over the side of Jongdae's throat, while his eyes remained trained over the spot where a head might pop up the moment Minseok decided to enter the building.

Jongdae's skin was cool against his, his pulse fast and fluttery.

"I see your point, but we can't allow all these overtime hours on paper without doing anything about them."

"Why not? I'm sure we can come up with a few placeholder benefits for those who work unwanted overtime. Just something insignificant they'll get, something to make it all right and legal. That way, we can stem it and nobody gets punished."

"That's... I can see what we might be able to do in that department," the guy said slowly, clearly letting it shine through what he thought of this indirect employee exploitation. Thankfully, Jongdae seemed to calm down, feeling more at ease with the secure, calm touch and general proximity of Zitao.

He aimed his gun, supporting his upper arm on his knee. No good for a sniping mission, but good enough for this short distance. Luhan was dead silent, but Zitao knew he was waiting for a sign. A mop of reddish hair appeared, short and a little spikey. He could shoot. He could shoot them both. But his instructions clearly said to only shoot when forced, and everything would go down the drain if he shot now. Somehow, Zitao still hoped he'd look up and give him a reason.

"I'd like to see the proposals before you take them to the council," Minseok said, hesitated, and stopped, just barely in Zitao's range. Zitao held his breath. Aimed at his head.

"Security?" Minseok asked, and a movement suggested that he was talking into the microphone of his earpiece. "Yes. Kim. Is everything alright? How many people are in the building?"

Zitao resisted the urge to swallow, and could hear that now, even Luhan was holding his breath.

Minseok hummed.

"I see. Yes. Yes, I understand."

The sound of a door being pushed open was heard and shortly after, it was closed. They were alone but didn't dare to relax yet.

" _They're leaving, I'm pretty sure he can't mess with his heat signature and the walls are thick. Still, wait a little longer..."_

No one moved for a few seconds that seemed like minutes, until Luhan finally allowed them to move. And to leave. Even though Jongdae was obviously itching to just run, they had to stop by their safe point around the bushes, so Luhan could properly patch up the virtual hole he had bored into the system to sneak them in. Jongdae could have just gone ahead without them, but he didn't, standing next to Zitao and staring between the street surveillance cameras and the ground.

"We're backed up. Street surveillance won't catch us," Zitao mentioned, and Jongdae hummed distractedly. He was shaky, Zitao could see his fingers trembling a bit as the shock settled in. When Jongdae met his gaze, he hid his hands behind his back, so Zitao didn't address it.  


 ⃝

 

"Do you know what I like most about you?"

Jongdae hummed in question, swiping his sweaty bangs away with the back of his hand. It was unbearably hot even under their thin blanket, and yet Tao wouldn't stop running his hands up and down the side of Jongdae's bare body. The urge to touch was just always there, like the instinct to breathe.

"If you say anything linked to sex right now, I can assure you I'll go right to sleep," Jongdae joked, and Tao poked his side in retaliation.

"I wasn't going to..." he whined, poking Jongdae until a lazy grin spread across his face.

"If I wanted anything from you, I'd just go down on you and see if you're up for it. Or ask."

"I like how the asking part came second," Jongdae teased, tangling their legs together. "And how I'm getting a blowjob out of it either way."

"You really make it hard to say nice things to you sometimes, did you know that?" Tao complained half-heartedly, and Jongdae hummed.

"You’ve mentioned that before. So what's on your mind, you little sap?"

Tao turned only his head away, unable to see it through with resolution.

"Now I don't wanna say it anymore."

"Oh _nooo_ ," Jongdae lamented, all soft and full of fake concern. Then he swung himself on top of Tao, who came face to face with a warm, playful smile.

"Whatever will I do now, to make you talk?"

The blanket was tangled between their legs, leading to a frustrating lack of skin on skin contact. Jongdae didn't do anything about it because he tended to be a tease if he was in good spirits.

"You can't convince me like that," Tao claimed, his palms already running up and down Jongdae's back, trying to get the blanket out of the way. Jongdae hummed, sinking down to steady himself on his elbows.

"It's actually way too hot for this."

Tao agreed with a wordless hum of his own, but didn't make an effort to stop. Their skin was disgustingly sticky already.

"You started this."

"No, you did," Jongdae tried, but Tao didn't fall for it.

"You're not gonna pen me as the horny one this time."

Jongdae actually laughed at that.

" _This time_ ," he echoed, and Tao leaned up to shut him up with an awkwardly angled, quick kiss.

"You're quite a handful, you know that? And people say _I'm_ troublesome."

Before Jongdae could quip back, Tao kissed him again, drawing back before Jongdae could deepen it and pin him down entirely.

"But whenever you get like that, I can see them best."

"See what?" Jongdae asked, finally allowing Tao to shower him with whatever obscure compliment he had on mind now, so they could get past the talking. With a smile, Tao ran his fingers through Jongdae's sweaty hair.

"The stars. What I like most about you are the stars in your eyes."

Jongdae didn't turn it into a joke this time, and even though he squirmed under Tao's unrelenting gaze, he forced himself not to look away.

"You're a little crazy sometimes, you know that?" he finally whispered, and Tao decided to give him a break by pulling him into a real kiss this time. Jongdae found it easier to express himself in actions over words, and Tao was fine with either. And really, Jongdae's eyes did most of the talking, anyway.  


❍

 

Jongdae still hadn't fully recovered by the time Zitao got ready for bed. He didn't say anything, didn't even belatedly scold Zitao and Luhan for their reckless behaviour, but somehow, Zitao just knew. He would have liked to distract him a little by playing with him, but while Kat was online, he was also away from keyboard. Zitao just felt slightly guilty over seeing Jongdae this quiet and detached, which was ridiculous, because _he_ had decided to tag along and he was an undercover agent himself. He should be used to high stress situations.

Yes, all the odds were in Zitao's favour, but that didn't change anything about the guilt gnawing at him. With Luhan being buried to his nose in the blueprints of the building, planning possible routes to get to places they assumed secret documents to be hidden in, Zitao was free for the evening. It was a perfect opportunity to catch some always-needed sleep. But before that, he decided to take a trip to the kitchen, silently hoping to find Jongdae around. When he didn't, he hesitated, tapping his fingers against the counter until an internal battle was won, and he ventured into Jongdae's part of the apartment. He'd never done that before, and only took a few steps before knocking against a door frame.

"Jongdae?"

A messy mop of brown hair popped out of the bathroom.

"Yeah? What is it?" he asked, and his tone was hard to decipher at this point.

"I was gonna order something. From the pizza place," Zitao said, almost grimacing at the stupidity of this statement, but there was no going back now, "You want something?"

Jongdae actually stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered, looking really nice in his fluffy white bathrobe (Zitao blinked the thought away), _just_ to shoot him a judgmental stare.

"You were ordering pizza. At midnight," he repeated blankly, and before Zitao could come up with an equally flimsy response, Jongdae let him off with a sigh.

"No, I'm good. Thanks for asking though."

Zitao kinda wanted to run his hands through Jongdae’s damp hair, and what was that? Jongdae was already turning away from him when Zitao instinctively grabbed his arm, feeling the other tense up like a cat coming in contact with water.

"What?" Jongdae asked, strained and reluctant, and Zitao let go of him immediately, staring at him as if he was seeing him for the first time. Jongdae looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to spill whatever he had on his mind, and to do it fast. But the other just stared, until Jongdae crossed his arms, both protective and stubborn.

"What's there to see?" he asked, struck by an afterthought, "in such an _ordinary_ face as mine?"

It didn't even sound entirely malicious or bitter. Zitao didn't know what to make of Jongdae right now, was too captivated to even try and decipher him.

"Your eyes," he just said, and said eyes widened, unguarded surprise taking over for a moment.

"There's stars in them," Zitao murmured, leaning in a bit closer. Jongdae's eyes had always been of an ordinary brown, but now they were shimmering in a pale violet, mysterious and with the lightest hues of blue and pink. And there were tiny, white dots shining like stars spread over an early night sky. It might’ve been one of the most beautiful natural assets Zitao had ever seen on anyone.

Jongdae blinked, ultimately avoiding his gaze.

"I usually wear contact lenses," he explained. He'd obviously not wanted Zitao to see, had forgotten about the lenses, had been too exhausted to remember.

"It's less flashy," he added, filling the silence.

Zitao's mind was simply wiped blank and then Jongdae was looking at him again.

"I'd like to go to sleep now. If that's okay with you."

Shaken from his reverie, Zitao did an odd mix between nodding and shaking his head.

"Yeah. Sure. Sorry about that," he uttered, turned on his heels and fled, there was simply no other word for it. What he fled from, he wasn't too sure. Probably a mix of embarrassment and guilt and feeling flustered. The sight of Jongdae's sparkling irises wouldn't leave his mind until he drifted off into a deep, much-needed sleep.

 

The next day, Zitao found Jongdae sleeping on the couch in the gaming room again, just a wall separating them.  


 ⃝

 

Jongdae's eyes were red and slightly puffy when Tao found him sitting on the floor right by the door, back against the wall. He immediately stopped ruffling his freshly showered hair and slid to the ground next to him.

"Hey, you okay? Sorry, I didn't hear you come in," he said softly, worry resting in the way he grazed Jongdae's shoulder. The other wasn't immediately meeting his gaze, as if he needed strength for that. Strength he didn't have.

"I'm just tired," he said silently, not making a move to lean into Tao or away from him. He just sat there lifelessly, with an unreadable gaze that was fixated on the floor, blinking away what must’ve been tears or tiredness or both.

Tao was silent for a few seconds, contemplated bringing it up and finally decided to do it. He had been avoiding it in the past, and maybe not avoiding it was what Jongdae needed now.

"Do you want to quit your job?"

Jongdae looked up at this, slight disbelief in his red eyes.

"I know it's a huge and important company, and I know you worked hard for this," Tao began with the amends, "you've gotten so far because of your hard work, really. But if it makes you this unhappy, it's okay to switch companies and get another job. I'm not trying to talk you into this, you know?"

Jongdae just stared at him and Tao couldn't stop talking.

"I'm just saying that other jobs can be just as fulfilling and demanding, without making you this unhappy. And it wouldn't be shameful to find a nicer one, no matter the pay or reputation."

Jongdae still stared at him, looking conflicted. Then he sighed and leaned his forehead against Tao's shoulder. Tao's hand naturally found its way to the back of his neck, just resting there as he listened to his deep breathing. He heard the shaky edge that Jongdae was determined to ignore.

"Would that really be alright?" he finally asked, a mere whisper against Tao's skin. "If I lost my job, would you still support me?"

Tao rubbed his neck and used his free arm to draw him closer.

"What kind of question even is that ? Of course I'd still be with you. You'd be hard pressed to find a way to get rid of me even if you tried."

Jongdae huffed, a weak attempt at a laugh.

"What did I do to deserve you," he asked wistfully, asked no one in particular.

"Everything," Tao hummed, pressing his cheek into Jongdae's hair. "Everything and more."

They sat there for a long time, and later, in bed, Tao just knew that he would doze off before Jongdae. All he could do was hold him close so he might be able to convey his support even when he couldn't stay up all night like Jongdae, plagued by an internal battle he had to fight on his own.  


❍

 

Zitao was training all on his own, sneaking up on an infamous player, muscles tense from top to bottom. He was waiting for the right moment to strike. Luhan was still busying himself with simulating different scenarios while Jongdae was out at work.

He inched just a little closer to the edge of the building, ready to let himself fall down and take the guy out before he could draw a weapon. His breathing slowed down, becoming deeper, getting ready to-

A message popped up in the right corner of his vision. Annoyed, Zitao glanced at it. Only Luhan's messages were allowed to show up at all times. And Kat's.

At the sight of that name, Zitao's annoyance turned into confusion and he inched away from the ledge, opening the chat. Jongdae should be at work.

It was a text only message.

_I'm with Minseok right now, I got him distracted. Wu and Zhang are alone at the headquarter. Now's the chance._

Both adrenaline and confusion sparked through him, and he tapped into Luhan's channel.

"Luhan? Hey. Look at this, Jongdae messaged us."

"Jongdae?"

Right as Luan asked, another message came along, then Kat was offline.

_I know I wanted to take things easy, but this might be our only chance. Hurry._

" _Jongdae sent that_? _Let me check that_ -"

"Luhan, we might be on a schedule here," Zitao said, already logging himself out to get ready, just in case.

" _Yeah, and yet I'm gonna check this first,_ " Luhan insisted, and the sounds of Luhan tapping around were dimly heard.

" _His signal has always been the same, it's pretty obscure as all the Wo2 trails are, but... aligning with Jongdae's current position. Wait. It was definitely written from his tablet and... shit, man. But wasn't Jongdae the one who insisted on no killing? This sounds like he wants us to take Wu out-"_

"Or maybe he wants us to temporarily take them out and raid the building while we're at it, but I say we take him out for good," Zitao proposed. "This shitty mission is getting stickier by the second and I want out of it."

" _I mean... we could still snatch those documents afterwards? Since they're alone, anyway..."_ Luhan trailed off, unusually hesitant.

"Let's wing it, that's what we do best, anyway," Zitao proposed, slipping into his suit, tugging the belts closed and equipping himself with a few weapons, nothing too big or fancy.

" _I can only tell whether Wu and Xing really are alone if we get close to the building though_."

"On my way."

Luhan whined at the sudden, unwelcome call to action, and Zitao could understand the doubts he was having, but Jongdae was tossing an opportunity their way, and he really wanted out of all this. He also wanted to set Jongdae free. In an odd corner of his mind, he was wondering whether Jongdae would have to move out immediately, or whether it was safer to play the act of a designer and a model to the end.

He shook his head. This was not the time for irrelevant, distracting thoughts. This was about a job, about what Zitao did best. Sneaking up on people to take them out.

 

Getting into the building was relatively easy after Luhan had checked that indeed, there were barely any ID trails, and therefore people, in the building. Zhang and Wu were indeed two of the very few, having snuck off into a secluded area. Zitao immediately thought of Jongdae suspecting them to be lovers and grimaced at the thought of shooting someone during a make out session. He'd definitely have to shoot them both, then.

" _I told you, the fancy structure will be the death of them_ ," Luhan mumbled, while Zitao squeezed himself past thick pipes and dozens of cables. It was pitch black except for the soft glow emitted by his flashlight, but turning on the lights was not an option. It was already hard enough to hide his heat trail, but Luhan guided him through the machinery rooms, and if he stuck close enough to the pipes, they should obscure it. It was something about the scanners getting too many conflicting information from them - Zitao didn't question it, he just knew it worked, because he had done it before.

" _Okay, okay, we're almost there. Left. Left should be a really narrow passage_."

Zitao was suddenly very glad he hadn't eaten the same stuff Jongdae had, the past weeks. He only barely squeezed through, slightly burning himself on a hot pipe.

" _Most air vents are too tiny for us to use, and so is this one, but this one's also ridiculously short_ ," Luhan rambled, an endless stream of information that Zitao took in as he crawled forwards, step by step, in this weird, surreal state of pure concentration. He felt his senses sharpen to their utmost abilities, felt his muscles thrum under his skin, ready to jump into action. He switched off the flashlight when another stream of light came into view.

" _Something around 30 centimeters. The angle is good enough for a hit, and I don't think they'll move out of your sight any time soon. I hope_."

Zitao hoped so, too, picking up his pace as much as he could without being noisy, and stopped short of the ray of light. The vent really was small - even if he cut his way through, it would be quite an uncomfortable squeeze, sure to be awkward and slow. _Shooting_ through it, however...

While he got his eyes used to the light and blindly put together his weapon - a slim gun - he heard heavy breathing coming from the room.

" _They won't see you, it's safe_."

Zitao swallowed one last time, and then leaned into the light, staring through the generous slits. The vent was obviously placed close to the ground, meaning that he didn't see much, except for the legs of chairs and tables, and two pairs of human legs. Someone was sitting on a chair, that one was Wu, Luhan provided from the background, Zitao could see up until the back of his leg, where the back of the chair obscured his vision. It didn't matter, even the tiniest patch of skin was enough for the type of poison he'd loaded his gun with, and he doubted that the guy was wearing bulletproof suit pants.

Between Wu's legs kneeled Zhang, being very obviously busy, judging by the slick sounds of what he judged as a handjob. Or maybe a mix of hand and blowjob. Either way, Wu was breathing heavily, but his legs were both visible and still enough to hit them.

"Want you," Zhang breathed out raspily in Mandarin, and then something happened, out of Zitao's sight, probably something filthy, and then Zhang cursed quietly.

"Shit, wait, condoms. They're still in my bag- I'll get them, wait for me."

The spread pair of legs shakily disappeared from Zitao's vision until only the feet were left, and then those hurriedly left, too. He was already aiming at Wu's leg, but now that the door was closed, he moved closer to the vent, as close as he dared. Heavy breathing slowly ebbed down and he had to move before Zhang returned.

" _He's moving down the hallways, I don't think he'll take long_."

Zitao aimed, and his breathing evened out. Despite the calmness, there was one small thought occupying the back of Zitao's head. For the first time, he didn't think about nothing, and not even about how his target deserved what he had coming for himself.

_You're free now, Jongdae_ , he thought, and shot.

 

* * *

 

 

"And I really appreciate that. In fact, I would have preferred to give you some bigger tasks already, but the other employees would probably not take too well to that."

Jongdae nodded politely, gingerly clasping his tablet as they walked down the deserted exhibit room, "I completely understand. It would be upsetting to them..."

He trailed off with purpose, keeping the statement open and unsure as they passed by rows and rows of technical equipment, of clips and cables, tiny boards and sensors.

"I know it's unfair," Minseok began, cutting himself off for a soft ' _this one_ ,' and Jongdae scribbled down the according number. "You're really promising. One of our best additions to the team in years. _That one, too_."

Jongdae hummed. Wrote down another number.

"But I think you would agree with me that it just wouldn't be worth it to delegate important tasks to you, considering how early you'd be gone."

Jongdae looked up from his tablet.

"Excuse me?"

Minseok smiled, the sharp smile he had for everyone, the only one he probably knew. He glanced at his watch.

"Any minute now, Huang Zitao should show up at Inyin."

This time, Jongdae froze, both externally and internally.

"We don't really know how he'll get into the building, but apparently, he's on it. Highly skilled, I must admit."

Jongdae took a step back, but then just couldn't take another. He was scared of making sudden movements. Minseok tilted his head to the side, something Jongdae himself did a lot.

"He observed you well, I gotta admit. At the very least as well as I did."

Jongdae's mind was racing, trying to figure out what was going on but coming up blank.

"You know, you're a sweet person. But the reason why I'm not gonna kill you is that you really were an excellent employee. I can respect that."

His smile betrayed different reasons altogether.

_Because I'm a sadist. And because I wanna watch you run your little legs off._

Jongdae stopped thinking and tumbled away from him, backwards, until he stood in the doorframe and was able to make a run for it. Minseok lifted his hand in a little wave, wearing that seemingly cheery and innocent smile.

Maybe it wasn't too late yet. Maybe-

"Zitao!" he yelled, tapping into his channel. It wouldn't connect. He reached for his tablet, attempting to open the game, that stupid game Zitao always played- it took him several attempts to hit the symbol, but he was logged out. Who had logged him out?

Images of Minseok swiping across his tablet and through the various models with the calmest face popped up in his mind, and Jongdae cursed as stumbled out into the street. Realization hit him only one street later, and there were just too many emotions pushing him forwards. He kept yelling into his mic, hoping to get through to them at some point. His tablet ended up on the tracks of the subway, crunched under its weight.

Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe they still had a chance.

 

* * *

 

 

Zitao shot and the man went down with a groan, meeting the ground with a dull thud with his back to him.

" _What?_ "

'What, what?' Zitao asked internally, feeling wary.

" _The ID trail, it changed names. I don't know when it did, I-_ "

'What does it say, Luhan?' Zitao asked impatiently.

" _It says Kim Jongdae_."

'What?'

Zitao stared at the body, but it was impossible to tell. Without much of a fuss, he forced open the vent, burning through the sides with a laser cutter.

'Where is Zhang?' he demanded, and for once Luhan seemed shaken.

" _Still walking away from us, but Tao_ -"

'We need to know. I'll be out in no time.'

He pulled the shawl around his neck up to hide his face, hide that he himself felt a bit shaky, as well, and forced himself through the small hole way too fast, bones cracking and skin bruising even through the suit. Artificial light flooded his senses, grey tiles came in sight and then Zitao was inside the room, jumping forwards, around the body, to see-

His boss.

His own boss, the agency's boss, lying there with eyes wide open, pupils blown up by drugs, foam already forming at the edge of his mouth, from the poison.

" _Shit. Oh my god_."

For a whole second it was quiet as Zitao stared at a face he'd known for more than half of his life, his mind completely wiped blank.

" _Zhang has stopped walking. Won't come back. Tao_ -"

Luhan's shaky words were cut off by a door flying open. It was Jongdae, red-faced, disheveled, and terrified. He stared at the body, breathing heavily, and then, without a single word, ran up to Zitao and ripped his ear piece out. The pain was immense, and Zitao instinctively cupped his ear, attempting to grab for the earpiece with his free hand.

"What are you-" he began, but Jongdae was already slamming it into the ground, digging his heel into it, before drawing an actual gun and shooting at it with shockingly accurate aim. The sound was deafening and finally kicked Zitao out of his reverie and into panic.

"Fuck, what are you doing?!" he demanded, and Jongdae shot him a sharp look, sharper than he'd ever seen on him before.

"You wanna drag Luhan into this, too?"

"What?"

Jongdae was already grabbing his arm, tugging him towards the vent.

"Get us out of here, _now_!"

Zitao had no choice but to obey. Without Luhan, he was completely helpless. A quick escape was their only chance now, and it wasn't even a big chance. He had to help Jongdae squeeze through the vent, and then they hurried down the way he had come in. Zitao wanted to ask questions but there was no time to think - his priority lay in getting him and Jongdae out of the building, guiding him along. There was no one coming after them, which wasn't surprising. When they were out in the open, Jongdae took charge, dragging Zitao after him, down the street, with purpose and aim. Zitao could only follow, and they ran for what felt like forever, until they ducked into an old, unused industrial property, full of rusty structures and containers. They jogged some more, until they came to a halt in the sad remains of an old production site, stuffed with old machines. A graveyard of rust.

Jongdae leaned against a shabby wall. He was gasping for breath so hard that Zitao thought he might hyperventilate.

"They'll find us here," Zitao said, and only then did he truly realize it. 'They' would not be Zhang, not even Minseok, but the police. Huang Zitao, the model, had murdered the head of his agency. They'd made him take himself out, and take the head of his agency with him. One of the heads of the secret service.

"They'll know we've been tricked," he said, more to himself than anything, but Jongdae still huffed.

"You really think they'd believe you? At most, they'll believe we're working for Wu. We're done."

Something caught Zitao's attention, just like it happened when your brain was overwhelmed and started to pick at small, possibly doable tasks.

" _We_? But. Wait, if you stayed back, they might have believed it was all me. I don't know about Luhan, but they would have definitely believed you. I think-"

He thought about it, and was getting surer about it by the second, "it was meant to frame _me_ , just me. You could have stayed out of this."

Jongdae just breathed heavily, leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.

Zitao couldn't believe any of this had just happened. His job, his reputation, his _life_ was over. And-

"We gotta hurry," Jongdae said, swallowing heavily, "there's a shortcut through here to the train station. There's an unsupervised train leaving soon, heading for Russia. We'll see from there, but we should definitely stay away from China."

And Jongdae's life was now over, too. They were officially on the run from both Wu and their own government.

"Here," Jongdae said, handing him the gun from earlier. "it's yours, anyway, and it's more useful in your hands."

"How can you say that?" Zitao said, staring at the gun without taking it, "I just murdered the wrong person, I just fucked up everything, just because-"

_...just because I thought I knew you. Because someone tricked me in an online game just by imitating you, because I was unable to keep everything professional-_

"Because you were framed. It happened, and now we better deal with it or we're dead. Instead of whining, we gotta quickly find a solution, isn't that what you said before? We'd be best off separating, but I don't think I'd survive on my own," Jongdae admitted, pushing the gun into his hand, before tugging him through the warehouse, slipping through the machines as if it was second nature. Zitao went along with it for a while, but he couldn't, he couldn't keep quiet and ignore this, so he stopped again, causing Jongdae to tumble.

"But why did you do that?" he asked, staring at a rugged-looking Jongdae. "Why the fuck didn't you just stay and pretend that I went nuts? Get a different job, leave this hellhole, just something. We're not even friends. Why?"

Jongdae didn't reply immediately, looking frazzled from head to toe, but when he did, there was no hesitation in his voice.

"Because it was the right thing to do," he said. "Because I know you're not an asshole, you just live in a different world than I do. And you would have done the same for me."

He sounded so certain, way more certain than Zitao was about this.

And just like that, he was stunned into silence as Jongdae kept tugging him along, away from his own job and his home, away from the cute secretary, away from his life and even the chance to take along his memories to the next life.

Zitao's life might have been filled with a grand reputation, a ton of people and friends and fame, but in that very moment, everything felt insignificant in comparison to the sacrifice Jongdae had made for Zitao, who hadn't done anything to deserve it.

 

 ⃝

 

_Are you home?_

_\- Yeah, making some music. What's up?_

_Stay in. I'll be back in a bit._

Tao was most certainly worried after reading those curt messages and there was no way he could keep working on that beat. He went to the kitchen to prepare some food - Jongdae really had to scale down on the take out - and at first, he didn't notice anything being off. He noticed in between two songs playing, in the silence that wasn't silent enough. With furrowed brows, Tao went to the window, looking down to see what might be causing the unusual noise. There were reporters down there. He blinked, turned away from the window and immediately reached for his phone. The last time reporters had harassed him for some irrelevant scandal they'd come up with, Jongdae had been pestered, too. He was looking up his name, checking the first results when the door to their apartment opened.

"Jongdae, you're back- what's wrong?"

Tao had meant to greet him first, to let him toe off his shoes and sit down with him, but Jongdae was white as a sheet, back pressed into the door.

"I'm sorry about the reporters," Tao began, "I'm not sure why they're down there-"

"Because of me," Jongdae uttered, looking him straight in the eye with a crystal clear conviction he hadn't seen on him in weeks. And fear.

"I'm a whistleblower, Tao."

Stunned into silence, Tao couldn't do anything but dumbly stare back. It pushed Jongdae to keep going, to fill the silence on his own.

"I leaked everything. And they know. I- I don't know what's going to happen from now on. I'm sorry."

Then he started crying, silent tears rolling down his face without warning, and Jongdae didn't even seem to register it.

"I'm sorry, you don't deserve this. I've had this planned all along but I couldn't tell you, and now everything's gonna go to shit. I- maybe even your career. I don't know. I'm so sorry."

Tao didn't mean to laugh, he really didn't. It just happened, a short, breathy huff of disbelief.

"I can't believe you tricked me like that," he said, and the painful expression on Jongdae's face turned into confusion as Tao went on, no anger or mocking to be found, "One would think I learnt my lesson, but it seems like it takes more than two lives to figure you out."

Jongdae just looked at him, helplessly waiting for the verdict, for where Tao was going with this. Unwilling to keep him on edge any longer, Tao went up to him, drew him into a quick, firm hug and pecked his hair.

"I'm proud of you."

"Really?" Jongdae asked, all the tears chased away by confusion and kept at bay by faint hope. Tao grinned.

"Of course! If there's anyone who can debunk a huge monster of a powerful company all on their own, it would be you. It would always be you."

"You're not making a lot of sense right now," Jongdae breathed out, shaking his head. "Do you realize how big of a deal this is? I might go to jail, people might hate you, simply for knowing me, maybe- maybe they'll even hire a hitman to come for me."

Tao was still breathlessly giggling to himself, and Jongdae looked like he was more worried about his possibly insane partner for now.

"You know what? I can't tell you details about our past life, but let's just say you haven't changed one bit."

Jongdae was still slightly shaking his head, shooting him a questioning look, and maybe Tao would tell him more one day.

"If someone puts a hitman on you... let's just say I'm not completely helpless," he assured him, squeezing his sides.

"You'll be fine. I'll ensure that."

Despite the confusion, there was a hint of unconditional trust in Jongdae's eyes, the willingness to go along with it, even if the situation was terrifying and he didn't understand what Tao was talking about. He was willing to just trust him. And that was maybe the biggest, most honourable present Jongdae had ever given him in any life.

In turn, he wouldn't disappoint him.

 

 

Epilogue:

 

 

◐

 

Zitao felt his breathing slow down. Slow, steady. It reminded him of that moment, that short time frame when you were aiming, and let yourself be completely calm. There was no shot to be taken though, only his muscles being stretched and challenged, and ever so slowly, Zitao righted himself up again, fingers brushing the thick carpet. To his left, the sun was setting, dipping the narrow apartment in hues of gold. They had lived here for almost a year and yet Zitao didn't get tired of the way the light danced over the cluttered roofs and walls of a huge but poor city still far away from the all-knowing claws of modern technology.

He heard the door open, but didn't move from the ground. It could only be Jongdae.

For almost a year, Zitao had been a fitness and dance instructor at a small, shabby studio, and Jongdae had gotten used to him doing Yoga in the living room.

He waited until Jongdae had toed off his shoes and taken a seat on the ratty, old sofa.

"Hey," he said quietly, preferring not to disturb Zitao when he was in the zone, but it was all good today. Zitao loosened his muscles a little, as a cool down, and nodded at Jongdae with a smile.

"Hi. How was your day?"

Jongdae reached for the bottle on the table, pouring himself a glass of water.

"Good, good. Yours?"

The light was twinkling in the glass, throwing specks of yellow on Jongdae's skin. He was still wearing contact lenses, just like Zitao did, and that was a bit of a shame, because Jongdae's natural eyes would look phenomenal in the light.

Zitao lowered his gaze, busied himself by aimlessly stretching his arms. He had been thinking about Jongdae's attractiveness for way longer than a year, too, and had gotten used to it. Jongdae wasn't interested in him, not interested in men in general, and Zitao would keep this small, hopeless crush under wraps for the rest of their days. It felt like a bit of an ironic punishment, and Zitao thought that he deserved way more than this - nothing would ever make them even. It wasn't all that sad, really. It was alright.

"So, I... actually got something I need to talk to you about," Jongdae began, and Zitao immediately dropped the pretense, giving him his full attention, worry painting his face.

"We gotta move again?"

Jongdae shook his head.

"No, nothing like that, just..."

He inhaled deeply, and for the first time in a while, he looked tired.

"I gotta admit something."

Zitao slid over until he sat on the ground, opposite of Jongdae, the table separating them.

"Yeah? What is it?"

Jongdae ran his fingers aimlessly over the perspiration outside his glass, and it made Zitao nervous.

"Back then, I always told you I don't play online games and the likes, right? That wasn't exactly true. I do have an account, had it for years, really. I just never used it much."

The mere mention of something linked to their time before the incident made Zitao's senses tingle in warning, but he just couldn't see where this was going.

"And we were located?" he asked, but Jongdae shook his head again.

"It's not that either. I haven't logged in since we left, but I got a mail about a private message someone sent me."

Zitao stared at him expectantly, and Jongdae opened the bag next to him, rummaging through the heaps of documents companies without tablets accumulated.

"It's from Luhan."

At the mention of Luhan's name, Zitao sat up straighter. He hadn't heard from him ever since that fateful day. Jongdae finally found what he was looking for, and placed one sheet of paper in front of Tao. It was a print out from the mail, rattling down the message he had received.

_Yo ChenChen, yo Panda._  
I found something.  
P.S.: you fucking jerk I am definitely mad at you.

Zitao's expression relaxed at the last sentence, because it was just so like Luhan to use one of three lines to insult him.

"Apparently, in one of his other lives, Luhan lives in the far future," Jongdae explained. "They're not allowed to contact us, but it seems like Luhan has somehow sent his past self a message."

He handed Zitao a second sheet, that looked like a really obscure message that someone had tried to put into as few words as possible.

**+++archive2740March+news+inyin corruption scandal+former model huang zitao and former employee kim jongdae exposed and served proof against them+entire executive suite to face judgment+++**

He looked up and into Jongdae's serious expression.

"Inyin _will_ go down. And we'll be the ones to make it happen."

Zitao licked his lips, and re-read the entire message, even the insult.

March 2740. That date was still about a year away.

"Only a single year," Jongdae said as if he had read his mind. Zitao nodded.

"We better get our asses up and moving, then, huh?"

"I knew you'd take this easily, but actually seeing it is all the more disturbing," Jongdae sighed, and Zitao got to his feet, ready to start packing up his meagre belongings.

"Well, for once, they fucking deserve it," he said, crossing his arms. "Secondly, if we ignore Luhan, he'll make our life a living hell, no matter where we're trying to hide. And finally..."

He waited, sorted his thoughts, and it took him so long that Jongdae shot him an expectant look, but Zitao _had_ a final point, he just had to look for the perfect words to convey it.

"Last time might have been a disaster," he began with confidence, "but if we actually work together this time, I don't think they stand a chance."

Jongdae stared at him, a little doubtful, somewhat smiling, and Zitao would burn the world down if it tried to hurt him.

"What if I've become rusty?" Jongdae asked, and Zitao huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, sure. I see the way you move around. Your aim is still as deadly as ever, you just need some mental practice."

Jongdae exhaled, his smile growing a little wider, a little more relaxed.

"Alright. I'm counting on you, then."

Zitao smiled, too, but his voice was steady and serious.

"I won't disappoint you."

 


End file.
